Hoenn Sweet Hoenn
by OdnetninAdlez
Summary: It has been 100 years since the fall of mankind to the rebellion of the Legendaries. Now, they rule with an iron fist and one mission - to eradicate all human existence. But a powerful force from an isolated village threatens to stop their rule for good.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. Everything in this fic except my OCs belong to Game Freak/Nintendo. **

**Rating: T for violence, gore and moderate language.**

* * *

I

The breeze was calm. While it was still vaguely noticeable, not as much dust as usual was being picked up and thrown about to and fro in a largely haphazard fashion. As if when the wind is stronger it ploughs through the ground, throwing up droves of dust in anger. The wild Pokémon took advantage of this development and were outside their hiding places, solely created for the purpose of keeping out the irritating dust which so often permeated the usually breathable air. Now, they played about in the warm sun, some battling for fun and testing their abilities, others merely congregating together and talking in an unreadable language (at least from a human's standpoint). This was the one half of the small population that resided in the somewhat extinct forest of Petalburg Woods. The other half remained in their hiding places, and not only due to the threat of dust. Even on a perfectly clear day like this, they had another danger to deal with. That danger was sitting only a couple of hundred metres away from their habitat, a figure slumped on a rotten tree trunk that had already begun to be eaten away by Wurmples.

A man, 6 foot tall, muscular, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He sighed and perched his makeshift bow over his chest. A quiver of arrows rested lazily by his side, waiting in line to be picked up and put to use. The man ignored them and perched his elbow on the top of the trunk, resting his head on a balled fist and closing his eyes in slight boredom. A great Salamence lay by the side of the log and rested his head on the decaying wood, letting his breath hit the man's dark hair. The man didn't seem to mind. It was a great beast, huge, with awe-inspiring wings and strong legs which helped it speed faster than any other wild Salamence. Not only this, but it was tremendously loyal to its owner – even death would not stop it from protecting him. And of course, why shouldn't he be? After all, this man had saved him from the Scythers when he was just a Bagon. If another second had gone by or came too early, the Scythers would have struck and he would not be lying here next to the rotting log and breathing on his master's hair.

They had a powerful relationship. They did everything together - ate, talked, laughed and hunted – even if the latter had no success. It seemed that today's hunting spree wasn't going to turn out with anything either. Although to be fair, the Pokémon were getting more and more aware of their intentions and presence, so much so that lots of them had taken to hiding whenever they came near. Hopefully then, some Pokémon would not get the message and still stay out, ripe for the hunting.

It was a good ten minutes before something interesting happened. The man and his Salamence were still in the same position as they had started off - the man leaning on his hand and the Salamence next to him. Suddenly, however, the Salamence jerked his head up, causing the man to look over at him.

"Whassa matter?" The man whispered, exhausted.

The Salamence didn't reply but instead kept looking out onto the horizon. The man took this as his cue to pick up the arrows and prepare for whatever was about to emerge. He squinted, like the Salamence, and thrust his face forward in a show of attention. He heard the faintest noise coming from that direction. Salamence seemed to hear it too as his six horns twitched. He was starting to get somewhat restless, dancing on excited feet, agitated to get started on a hunt. The man remained calm and kept looking toward the direction of the noise. It was somewhat louder than the first, a clear sign that whatever was making it was coming this way. The man picked up one of the arrows, notched it to his bow and held it by his side. Still perched on the edge of the log, he moved his head forward again. The noise got louder and closer every minute, and he tightened his grip on the bow.

Five minutes went by, with both the man and Salamence in the same position. Salamence was still hopping about with excitement, but the man stayed focused and still. The noise was incredibly close now, an array of Pokémon cries piercing the translucent air and reaching their attentive ears. The man tightened his grip on the bow again, nails digging into his palm. This was his chance. After not catching a thing all week, he would be happy to get even a measly Pidgey. He couldn't even believe it had come to that.

The cloud began to approach, a refreshing black compared to the usual orangey-brown colour of the dust. Salamence was hopping violently now, a few '_Salamences_' let out in his jittery excitement. The man stood now, and walked forward a few steps. He hoisted the bow on his shoulder and looked up. The cloud was roughly 500 metres from where they were - he gauged vaguely. Closer still the dark shadow loomed, but the man kept his cool. If he missed his chance here…

The cloud was only 300 metres away now, and the man readied his bow. Pulling slightly to test the elasticity of the string, he held the feathered tip of the arrow delicately and pulled it back on the string as far as he could. Salamence was close to flying because of his excitement, wings flapping furiously and kicking up even more dust.

"Sala!" The man hissed. "Relax!"

Salamence reluctantly did so, letting his wings fall to the ground, but his feet were still anxiously stomping about lightly. The man nodded and returned his gaze to the approaching mass of flying Pokémon. Raising his bow until it was level to the cloud, he waited. The cloud remained oblivious to the new threat and carried on, still squawking out Pokémon cries and screeches. The man tightened his grip on the bow even further, so much so that small cuts were starting to form on his palm from his fingernails. The chance of the week. There's no way he was letting it slip through his fingers.

The cloud was now almost straight above him. He breathed in sharply and pulled the arrow back again. There was so much pressure that he was surprised that the arrow didn't fly off there and then, but he somehow kept it under control. Salamence was still padding about softly in anticipation. The man ignored him and focused his gaze on the cloud. Closer, closer… Only a few seconds now… Almo-o-o-st…

Now!

The man's hand left the arrow, sending it off with devastating speed and power. There was, in fact, so much power that some flakes of wood snapped off the bow as the arrow was released. Salamence gave a somewhat audible gasp of what sounded like awe or admiration. His eyes focused on the arrow, perfectly straight and extremely quick. It pierced the cloud in silence, and for a second the man's heart sunk. But then a clear, loud shriek emanated from the very centre. The rest of the cloud exploded outward at the piercing noise and flew in different directions. Some stayed, only to be hit by the stricken silhouette falling to the ground. It looked quite big, at least about half the size of Salamence. Blood sprayed from its wing, where the arrow was embedded. The man was shocked for a second at the size of his catch, but then was quickly roused into action as the bird hit the ground.

"Salamence! Crunch!"

Salamence grunted and with an impressive show of speed shot over to the fallen Pokémon. It was still flailing about, letting out cries of protest, pain and anger all at once. However, those cries didn't last long as Salamence quickly bit its neck, causing it to instantly go limp. A few more flaps of the stricken wing before it finally settled down and submitted to Salamence's power. A couple more seconds passed and it was dead.

"Whoo-yeah!" The man yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

Salamence looked back at him and smiled with bloodied lips. As a show of triumph, it flew and did a few loop-de-loops before settling back on the ground next to its kill. The man ran over and squatted next to the bloody feathery mass. After inspecting it for a second, he found it was a Fearow, and a big one at that. He grinned again and patted Salamence on the shoulder, still looking at the kill.

"Oh hohoho…" he laughed. "The village is gonna be so happy."

He looked over at Salamence.

"We're all eatin' good tonight, Sala! Good work out there."

Salamence responded with a cry of '_Salamence_!' and did another loop-de-loop. The man grinned again and hoisted the corpse over his back (holding it by its long neck), walking back to the log where they were originally sitting. Salamence was padding alongside him and occasionally letting out short bursts of fire from his nostrils, a sure sign that it was happy. When they reached the log, the man dumped the catch on the side, by where his feet were and plonked himself back down onto it. Salamence settled back down where he was before and let out another burst of flame, hitting the ground and charring it. The man picked up his bow and inspected it. Except for the few flakes that had rattled off of it, it looked to be in very good shape. The string was still taut and the bow flexed along with its twitches. Everything looked to be in order. Good.

The man settled back down on the log and lay down on it, ignoring the damp musky stench emanating from the rotting wood. The Fearow remained on the ground, bleeding out the rest of its blood. It definitely would be a fantastic offering to the village. Especially after the drought of Pokémon they could actually eat (they lived mostly on Berries for that period); the change would be a welcome one.

Suddenly, Salamence's head snapped up, which caught the man's attention. Another opportunity already? Surely not…

It wasn't of course, but rather someone coming from the direction of the village. A lithe figure, silhouetted by the soft dusty fog, hips swaying slightly and what appeared to be a container being held in their hands. The man smiled at the realisation of who this person was. His friend. Not another hunting opportunity but still better – even if by a small margin.

"Hey, Blade!" A voice called out.

"Raven!" Blade responded, waving his arms to catch the girl's attention. Salamence also walked up with Blade, somewhat hesitant. Raven, in turn, ran up to the log where Blade and Salamence were standing. She was a beautiful girl; a nice face, lovely jet black hair down to the middle of her back and deep brown eyes. She was carrying a battered water jug.

"Okay, Blade?" Raven inquired as she drew close. "How's the hunt going?"

Blade grinned broadly before reaching behind the log. The Fearow was still obscured from view by it, but as Blade lifted it further and further from the ground, Raven's jaw dropped more.

"How's that for the hunt?" he said triumphantly, holding the Fearow high as if presenting it to a monarch. Raven remained flabbergasted.

"My god! What in all hell is that?" She almost shouted, astounded by the impressive size of the catch.

"This," Blade indicated the Fearow with a stab of a finger. "Is a Fearow."

Raven remained in awe, lifting the bird's neck up and letting it fall.

"And... And how much do you think we can get off this?" she asked incredulously.

"I think we can get enough meat for the entire village for… one day? Yeah 'bout that."

Raven shook her head, with the grin still plastered on her face.

"Jesus," she said, still shaking her head. "At least we'll be getting off the berries for a couple of days."

"Yeah."

Blade patted Salamence on the head.

"Although half the kill should be going to this guy. If it weren't for him I'd probably have missed the opportunity."

Salamence flashed a toothy grin and a '_Salamence_' of happiness splurged out of his mouth.

"Well, then well done, Sala!" Raven congratulated him and patted his head. "I'm sure I know someone who'd be really happy to see you."

Salamence nodded twice before flying up and hovering in the air. Raven took a Pokéball out from a pocket and threw it up.

"Chari! Go!"

A brilliant flash of white light shone from the ball as it snapped in half, revealing the powerful shape of a Charizard. Salamence reacted with a happy smile and a few more bursts of fire. The light around the figure dissipated, leaving behind the powerful dragon, which shook out its wings with a cry of '_Chari!_' Salamence, in turn, gave a whoop of excitement and soared up to meet the female Charizard.

Raven turned back to Blade as the two dragons tumbled about, play fighting.

"You still staying out? I doubt another opportunity like that's gonna show up."

Blade picked up his bow and quiver.

"Hell no!" he laughed, gesturing to the Fearow. "I think this baby will just about do won't it?"

Raven nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, definitely." She looked up. "Leave 'em out?"

Blade joined her in watching the two dragons testing out their Flamethrowers on each other.

"Yeah, I think so. Let them enjoy it for a while longer," he said, twirling an arrow around in his palm. He cupped his mouth.

"Oi! Come back before dark okay?" He bellowed in their direction.

They nodded their assurance and continued biting each other's tails. Blade smiled and turned back to Raven, who was watching the two Pokémon go for it.

"Let's head back, then," he smiled, slapping the Fearow over his back again and making his way towards the isolated village.

Raven remained for a few seconds, watching the two Pokémon go for each other with Dragon Claw. They were just another two Pokémon born into this horrid world where humans were not meant to exist – a paradise for Pokémon everywhere to roam and play and hunt and battle as they pleased. The last symbols of any order and hope left for the remaining few of the human civilisation's companionship with the wondrous creatures. Quite sad, then, that they were probably the last Pokémon that had not had their minds corrupted by the Legendaries' propaganda. The last hope any human had left to fight back.

Raven shook her head once before turning back and following Blade, leaving the two dragons to tumble about innocently in the dusty air.

* * *

-100 years earlier-

A flash. Two flashes and a muffled rattle of gunfire, mixed with a deaf roar. Bullets saturated the air and penetrated multi-coloured bodies, resulting in deafening roars of pain. Gruff shouts, screams and unnatural gurgles emanated from stricken soldiers, falling to the ground with a spray of blood from their lacerated appendages. A great deep roar of triumph before a large thud as the Pokémon responsible fell to the ground, its torso riddled with bullet wounds.

"They're overpowering us!"

A loud, shaking voice pierced the usual rattle of machine guns. It was cut short as the person's mouth gurgled and filled with blood. He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of a crimson blade protruding from his chest. He looked up, then back. The piercing red eyes of a Gallade cut into his mind. An intense savagery, unlike anything seen in a Pokémon before this, ran through the mind of the Gallade, pulsing with hatred for the human race. A few seconds and a huge flow of blood later, the man's eyes rolled backward and his heart burst. Limp. The Gallade hoisted him up by the blade and threw him at another soldier, who consequently was pinned down. The Gallade sped forward, slicing that soldier's neck with ruthless efficiency. Another five fell to its infamous sharp arms before it fell, sniped by an accurate bullet to the temple. It fell and joined the already dead humans, eyelids dropping and eyes glazing over disturbingly. As much as it hated the humans, its wounded mind couldn't let it fall amongst its own. It had to drop there and then.

More gunfire, more roars, more screams. A rattle of teeth with a fist's impact. A squirt of blood from a cut limb. An explosion of gunpowder from a barrel which took another life. The Pokémon and humans fought on, no sign of stopping. The one Pokémon responsible for all this, a Psychic type, stood atop a half-demolished building, overlooking the chaotic scene with condescending, narrowed eyes. Some stray bullets from the mess zoomed his way, but he easily parried them, eyes glowing blue as he used Psychic to shoot them back where they came from. A Rayquaza that was circling the air above, occasionally letting loose Dragonbreaths on the outnumbered humans, came down and rested his head near the Psychic type's side.

"Almost done," he growled in an unpleasant tone. "The human scum are beginning to retreat. We've got 'em now."

The Psychic type nodded, not letting his eyes move from the violent scene. He spotted something, an anomaly in his otherwise perfect victory. A human, still alive though heavily wounded, limping away from the scene. His three-ball-fingered hand pointed toward the odd result.

"Flamethrower, if you please, Rayquaza," he smiled.

Rayquaza smiled and readied his mouth for the searing flames.

"With the utmost pleasure, Mewtwo," he grinned evilly.

He swivelled his head level with the fleeing target and released the burning stream. It hit the man, who then fell to the ground and screamed as the flames tore his skin and soaked into his bleeding wounds. The pain was immense. Rayquaza kept up the stream for another minute, but the man had stopped flailing in the first thirty seconds, the fire already choking the life out of his vital organs. Rayquaza kept it up, burning the man's skin away until no more than a charred skeleton remained. He finished the stream of flame and belched disgustingly, a clump of smoke escaping his unharmed mouth.

"Like killing a baby," Rayquaza said crassly, licking his lips.

Mewtwo smiled at him and let his eyes rest on the chaos once more. It was that way, wasn't it? The humans were pitifully armed and less than able to take on even this, a small section of his army. There were incredible losses to the human's side, whereas the Pokémon had barely lost any members. Gallade would surely be missed though. He was a valuable asset to the team, dealing out death like he was the Grim Reaper himself, sharp arms resembling the scythe that the Reaper wielded. Mewtwo sighed and lifted Gallade's stiff body with Psychic, letting it rest by his and Rayquaza's side. Rayquaza looked at him inquisitively, but Mewtwo didn't say anything for a while.

Finally, his head turned and Rayquaza was listening.

"See?" he asked cryptically.

"What?"

"The humans."

He looked back over the battlefield, just in time to see a Flygon get shot down by a sniper. Blood sprayed over the battlefield as if the dragon was a sacrifice to Arceus himself.

"Savage. Remind me…"

Rayquaza cocked his head curiously.

"Of?"

"Why we have such a great distaste for the humans."

He knew the answer of course, but he wanted to know that Rayquaza's head had been drilled through with it.

"They captured us," Rayquaza began. "And used us as their own personal playthings. Imagine the thought. I could have been captured by one of them and used to face off against a Bidoof. How demeaning can they be?"

"Indeed," Mewtwo nodded. "I just wonder why we had not rebelled sooner. After all, we had the capability to do so ever since the humans first started to come here. I shudder to think…"

Mewtwo hesitated, horrified at the thought.

"…I shudder to think we were forced to fight each other. Humans! Unethical creatures! They can rot in the sea and get eaten by Sharpedos for all I care."

His fists were clenched, his mind overridden with passion for the subject of the human's eradication.

"But no more, Mewtwo," Rayquaza's voice soothed him. "They're almost all gone. Any survivors cannot survive long without a Pokémon to hunt for them, fight for them. It looks like we've finally reached the Pokémon that were already in their grasp."

Mewtwo sighed and unclenched his fists.

"I'm so glad, Rayquaza. And I can't wait."

His breath shuddered with ecstasy.

"I can't wait for them to be gone. Soon the Pokémon will finally be able to live in peace, unharmed, not anticipating that a human can spring up and battle them for no reason. The Earth will be our own personal paradise, and that's the way it should be! After all, who created the Earth?"

"Arceus," Rayquaza answered, not missing a beat.

"And us? All Pokémon?"

"Mew. The one spoken of in legend."

"Exactly. This world was made for us. You, me, everyone. This was ours but it was taken from us."

His eyes glowed blue as he deflected a bullet trained on his head back to the shooter. An audible cry was heard as the guard fell from his tower. Mewtwo's eyes followed the man's descent, and he flinched as the frail body hit the ground with a '_crack_!'

"And we're gonna take it back."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**japaneserockergirl: I'm glad you like it! Also, thanks for being the first reviewer! It means a lot.**

**ZR: Thanks, ZR! Glad you like it. I can't wait for whenever your next story is going to be published.**

**Neoshadowwolf: Thanks so much! And to answer your question, yes. It's a British accent that's about in the middle, i.e. not posh and not cockney :)**

**RoseWing-chan: Thanks for reviewing Rosewing! Glad you like it. In many ways this story is inspired by Animal Farm by George Orwell. It's a great book and what gave me the idea for writing this fic.**

* * *

II

The Fearow was still bouncing clumsily on Blade's back as he jogged back to the village. Raven was running alongside him, barely out of breath even though she was carrying a full water jug by her side.

"Why are we running?" she inquired. Blade slowed and turned his head to face her.

"I like running," he said nonchalantly. "It keeps me fit."

"Hmph. Can't you do it in your own time? I think I'm starting to get a stitch," she moaned, clutching the afflicted area.

Blade glared at her fiercely, but she glared back and he just shrugged.

"Sure."

She slowed and walked alongside him.

"Thanks. You're gonna give me a headache soon," she said, grabbing a fistful of her hair.

Blade smiled.

"At least I'm less of a headache than 'Little Tyke'."

Raven groaned loudly at the mention of her younger brother's name.

"Don't get me started. The kid wouldn't stop running about, talking, whatever. I barely got to sleep."

"Either way, how's he doing?"

"The usual, my friend, the usual. Hasn't changed a bit since you last saw him."

"Still hunting Weedles then?"

"Weedles!" Raven scoffed. "He's lucky we have a good stock of Antidotes at the house!"

"Been poisoned before, has he?"

"Yup. Hated it. Said he was in pain from head to toe. Still goes for them though, like the foolhardy weirdo he is."

"At least he hasn't been paralysed yet. That's scary stuff right there. You can't move at all for ages."

"Well then tell him that," Raven replied bluntly. "Maybe that'll put him off looking for bugs all the time." She shook her head roughly. "They creep me the hell out. If he came home and brought a Wurmple in I'd probably run a mile."

"Oh really…?" Blade smiled mischievously, having just learned his friend's fear.

Raven kept smiling, as if she hadn't got the hint. She did, however.

"And if _you_ do it," she said, still smiling, "I'll get Charizard to track you down and bite your goddamn head off."

Blade laughed loudly and Raven punched him on the arm.

"All this talk about biting people's heads off is making me hungry. Let's get some grub."

"Okay."

Not much was said between the two after that; only small comments on the prevalence of the dust broke the silence occasionally. Eventually, however, a small group of shacks came into view.

"Here we are," Blade announced.

Raven made a face. "You don't say?"

Blade ignored his friend's mildly sarcastic comment and kept marching toward the path between the rows of houses. The village seemed particularly busy today, with people bustling in and out of houses, selling produce and watching their kids playing around. Money had been rendered useless (as of course, the Pokémon had no use for it) and burned as a sign that the humans had once and for all been conquered by the unstoppable forces of Mewtwo's army. The only means of currency that the village had was TMs and HMs, which varied in value depending on the move they housed. For example, a simple, common TM that contained, say, Protect would probably buy someone two Spearows, no more. However, throw in a Fire Blast TM and you're looking at a Staraptor or even the Fearow bouncing about on Blade's back.

"Wa-hey! Look who it is! The fearless hunter!" The grocer exclaimed as Blade approached his counter. Blade smiled politely and plonked the Fearow down on the table. The man seemed shocked.

"Want some plucking done please, Rayden," he said casually, slapping a Stealth Rock TM on the counter from his pocket. "Any idea how long it's gonna take?"

Rayden examined the Fearow with awe and admiration.

"Bloody hell! Where did you pull this one out of? A sleeping Pokémon's ass?"

"Nope!" Blade replied smoothly. "All me and my good pal Sala."

"Speaking of which where is the big fella?"

"Out. Playing with Raven's Chari."

Rayden looked behind Blade's shoulder and saw Raven, who nodded her greeting.

"Oh! I never saw you there, Raven!' How's tricks?"

"Not bad, Ray. Normal. Boring, whatever you want to call it."

"Cool."

Ray turned back to Blade.

"To answer your first question, I'd say… three hours? Give or take a few minutes, of course."

"No problem, I'll be back then!" Blade called as he left Ray to his own devices. It seemed that the grocer was still shocked by the plump Fearow's presence.

"Jesus. He wasn't half shocked when he saw that beast come out from behind your back," Raven pointed out as they got further and further away from Rayden's stall.

"I know!" Blade laughed. "Who's laughing now? And he thought I wouldn't get anything 'til the end of the week. I should've taken his bet!"

"For what?"

"Solarbeam TM."

Raven's jaw dropped.

"You didn't take it?" she asked incredulously. "A TM like that could get you two Staraptors!"

"Yeah, and it could also have cost me two Staraptors," Blade replied grimly.

Raven made another face. Apparently she had forgotten that Blade had the ability to lose _anything, _much less a bet. Sure, she had won a few battles with her in the past but he had confessed at times he let her win, bringing anger from Raven's side. Blade never just 'let' anyone win, even if they said for him to go easy on them.

"Yeah, I guess," Raven sighed, stretching her hands in front of her with entwined fingers. Eventually a soft 'click' sounded and she let her arms fall back to her sides.

"So while Rayden is plucking that Fearow, you wanna go grab something to eat? I mean that is what we came for…"

"Who's cooking today?"

"Taela, I think. She cooks pretty much every day. Usually."

Taela was another resident of the sepia-toned village. She was one of the better cooks of the food department and she would cook without so much of a grumble, unlike most of the other cooks that were herded into it because it was 'their turn'. As was the case, everyone had to do a least a bit of cooking – one day a month minimum – and the leader of the food department was the one who would choose whoever it would be next. However, Taela was such a good cook and she also enjoyed cooking so much that she tended to stay near the stove for most of the month.

Blade shrugged. He had nothing better to do.

"Sure," was his simple reply as he began to make his way towards Taela's workplace.

Along the way, people littering the water-starved streets congratulated him on his recent victory, the Fearow. Apparently, news spread fast when it begins from Rayden's mouth. One after another people came up, shook Blade's hand and disappeared back to their original spot, awed voices raising as he nodded and accepted the adulation. Raven remained by his side, walking at his pace (which was very slow considering the amount of people clamouring for his attention) and smiling at the grateful faces that sprang up.

Suddenly, out of the midst of all the bodies, a thin wrinkled arm blocked Blade's path. As the people dispersed, he followed the path up the arm with his eyes, only to come face to face with one of the village elders, Ecia. She, like the others, was among the wisest of the people.

"Ah," Blade gasped and immediately bowed after an elbow dug into his side, courtesy of Raven. Ecia eyed him neutrally for a while, but eventually spoke.

"Excellent job, my fellow villager."

Her voice was frail, weak… but oddly powerful. It commanded attention.

"The Fearow should prove to be a fantastic source of food for many days to come."

"Thank you, Elder Ecia," Blade replied graciously.

There was a silence as Ecia inspected his face, then Raven's which nodded respectfully. Ecia gave a wry smile.

"I'm supposing you two haven't become an item since the last time I saw you?" she cackled, catching the two warriors off guard. Blade and Raven just stared at Ecia, mutually shocked.

"Elder!" Blade hissed, blushing. Ecia laughed uncharacteristically.

"I jest. I merely jest," she breathed after a heavy laughing fit. "Keep up the good work, Blade."

The old woman then shuffled off, leaving Blade and Raven looking at each other with incredulity plastered all over their faces. They turned faced the opposite direction and mock-heaved in the ground.

"What a loon," Blade muttered jokingly.

"Mm," Raven hummed her agreement. Blade turned to her.

"We will never speak of this to anyone, agreed?"

Raven looked at Blade's serious face and stifled a laugh.

"Yes, of course," she said, shuddering with muffled laughter.

The two friends kept walking, accepting more kudos and dancing around questions about Ecia's sudden amused turn. Such a thing was unheard of by the majority of the population.

After about ten minutes walking they got to Taela's workplace. There were Pokémon of many different species strung up and skinned of their fur and feathers to show the precious meat they hid underneath. Any normal person would have grimaced and a humanitarian would probably have collapsed just from that sight alone, but apparently the sight of a Bidoof without its clothing didn't affect many of the villagers, who were in a queue waiting for Taela to finish her current dish: Taillow and vegetable stew. Blade and Raven hastily entered the queue before anyone else could appear and get in before them. Blade bounced on his heels impatiently.

"There just had to be a queue," he muttered.

"There's always a queue," Raven pointed out matter-of-factly, although she had to admit she was kind of disappointed by the lack of lack of people.

Taela finally brought out a large pot containing a favourite of many of the villagers. The people cheered and the line started to move as Taela served the first dish.

"Well at least the line is moving," Raven beamed enthusiastically as the people stepped up and grabbed a plate. There was a small bowl on the side of the counter for tips, which some of the people left (if they could even be called tips) and they were relatively worthless. The Protect TM seemed to be a fan favourite of this bunch of skinflint villagers.

Eventually the crowd thinned out and Blade and raven were the last of them. Taela looked exhausted; the pot containing the stew was almost empty. But there was still enough for the two to have a sizable portion and a small part left over.

"Thanks, Taela," Blade said as she dumped the delicious mess on his plate.

"Anytime, Blade," she smiled, then added, "After all, you were the one who caught these Taillow, yes?"

"Perhaps…" Blade trailed as he ate a piece of the Taillow. It was good; a sharp natural taste that was well accompanied by the juice made by the combined efforts of the vegetables.

"Nice." He burped accidentally and Taela smiled at the compliment. Raven was still eating her stew, savouring it and eyeing the two.

"Anyway. Could have been me," Blade continued, "or even Krunk…"

"Krunk!" Taela laughed, but quickly lowered her voice in case he heard. "He can't catch a Slowpoke with a net."

"My ears are burning," said a sarcastic voice from behind a wall. Krunk emerged, holding a baby only a month old. It's face was pure, cute, beautiful. Untainted by any wrinkles of worry that her mother's face held, or the scars of battle her father had.

"Ah, Krunk!" Taela acknowledged. Her eyes darted around, as if trying to find an excuse to deviate from the current conversation. Her eyes fell on the Taillow stew pot.

"Want some more?" she asked sweetly - perhaps a little too sweetly – gesturing to the pot. Krunk shook his head.

"Nah, the portion you gave me before was enough. It was great, love." He smiled and hugged her, and as she brought her face up he kissed her on the lips. Blade smiled at this touching romantic moment, while Raven pointed to her mouth and gagged.

Taela and Krunk made an… interesting couple to say the least. Taela had a young face that said her age was much younger than 35, even with the small wrinkles forming around her eyes. As everyone else, she had a lithe, very slightly emaciated body, but the clothes she was wearing – a baggy top, too-big leggings and an apron – hid it, as she preferred ease of movement and comfort to looking good. Krunk was like a sore thumb compared to her, with loud clothing, ripped trousers and intimidating tattoos making him look like a war veteran. His hair, down to his shoulders, was long, black and somewhat tangled. It looked crazy, befitting his hunting style and personality. The two had been married for five years, but their baby was only born quite recently. Blade loved her name: Fabia. It was a simple name, like a name someone would give their Clefairy or Pichu. And by the way Krunk, the messy-haired, tattooed war veteran was cradling her, he looked like he had been changed to a doting mother, afraid that someday, somewhere, this beautiful creation was going to be snatched from his arms.

Blade drew close to him and peered into Fabia's eyes.

"And how's Fabia-a-a?" he asked, elongated the last syllable in order to grab her attention. She merely looked at him, at his ocean-blue eyes for a second, then looked in the opposite direction as if she was in a strop.

"What, did I do something wrong?" he laughed. Taela smiled at his joke.

"I think she's tired," she said, "She hasn't slept properly for about a week now."

"Yeah," Krunk sighed, "And it's like she wants us to go through her 'suffering'." He rubbed his bleary eyes to try and emphasise how tired he was.

"I'll bet," Raven muttered sarcastically, but in good nature. Of course, throughout this conversation she hadn't spoken up, merely concentrating on the food on her plate. But that was now gone and she found a way to get into the banter. Krunk's eyes widened as he recognised her presence for the first time.

"Raven!" he exclaimed, holding his free arm out to her to draw her in. Raven just stared at him disapprovingly.

"That's not how the _cool _kids do it, Krunk." She grinned and held out a fist, and Krunk looked at it, confused as to what to do.

"Bump it," Raven instructed, and his mouth turned up at the corners. He made a fist of his own and they touched knuckles.

"Does this make me cool now?" he laughed as did everyone else.

"Catch us a Fearow," Taela answered, "Then we'll see how cool you are."

Blade and Raven had already finished their portion of the stew; it was brilliant, as always. Blade often wondered whether or not Taela would ever top each dish, but somehow she managed. He concluded that this was only normal for her, so something amazing would probably cause him to collapse in a sensory overload. Of course, that was all down to Taela's skill as a chef, and unlike the other patrons that had left miserly tips, Blade felt like he had to give them something worthy of her hard work.

Blade looked at the plate of grey TMs condescendingly while Taela and Krunk chatted to Raven. Rummaging in his small satchel, he produced a browny-yellow TM that shone as the light flooded over it. Blade inspected it for a second, then nodded and placed it on the top of the pile, it's vibrant colour outshining the dull grey sea underneath. Nobody seemed to notice.

"Sorry to butt in," Blade interjected as he got to his original spot, "But we have to take our leave. We'll be getting Sala and Chari back ourselves instead of them coming back themselves. I don't trust them."

"Ah. Well, it's no problem, Blade!"

Krunk offered his hand to him. It was open, but then Krunk's eyes flashed in memory and he close it into a fist.

"Keeping cool," he said with a wink to Raven, who laughed. Blade laughed with her and he touched Krunk's fist with his own.

"Yeah… I think it's about time we cleared this place up anyway," Taela segued, looking over the pile of dirty utensils.

"Right then. Thanks for everything guys!" Raven said as she fist-bumped Krunk and walked to Blade's side.

"See you tomorrow!" Blade called as he started to walk away. Taela and Krunk carried on waving, occasionally shaking Fabia's little hand gently to show her waving too. When it looked like Blade and Raven were out of sight, Taela looked back to the table, at the tip plate. A browny-yellow TM stood out from the others, as it shone with the sunlight unlike the matt surfaces of the TMs underneath. She picked it up and surveyed it. When she read the name embossed on the side, she almost dropped it on the ground. Krunk noticed her fumbling for it and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter, love?"

She said nothing, only passing him the TM to see what the fuss was about. Like her, he inspected it and almost dropped it, such was the surprise he felt. Taela grabbed it off him as he repeated the word 'Cripes!' under his breath every so often. She looked at it and then in the direction that Blade and Raven had walked off to.

"An Earthquake TM!" She heard her husband's voice cut the howl of the air. "Now that's valuable!"

Taela nodded, still looking out, trying to discern dust from silhouette. She wanted to run down there, thrust the TM back into his hands and say that she couldn't accept it, that it was _simply_ too much. But then she smiled and turned away. What was the point? He wouldn't take it anyway.

* * *

XxX

Raven and Blade strolled back through the village, accepting congratulations when they were offered and nodding their greeting to familiar faces. They could tell they were going in the right direction due to the tell-tale flames scattering through the sky now and again. Blade smiled as he imagined the two dragons playing about in the air.

"God, that stew was something else wasn't it?" Raven's voice cut through his daydream.

"Oh, yeah," Blade drawled, his mind coming back to reality, "You should have seen the tip I left them."

"Crap!" Raven hissed suddenly.

"What?" Blade asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I forgot to tip her," she said, clutching her forehead with a palm.

"Ah, no worry. Just tip her double whatever you thought this was worth next time."

"I don't know about that. I'd say that stew was worth…" She searched her mind for something that was come close to the value of the brilliant meal. "An _Earthquake_ TM!"

Surprisingly, her hyperbole wasn't far from the truth.

"Haha, yeah…" Blade said nervously, subconsciously scratching the back of his head. He knew that Raven had lectured him before about how he spent his TMs.

"What?" Raven asked, catching the tone of his voice and furrowing her brow.

"Haha, nothing, nothing," Blade replied, trying to get away from the subject. Again, his voice betrayed him and Raven raised an eyebrow.

"What'd you give her?"

Blade sighed. Well, she was going to draw it out of him eventually.

"An Earthquake."

Raven's jaw dropped for the third time that day.

"Blade Darius Walker!" she exclaimed abruptly, causing him to flinch. Blade knew that as soon as she said his full name, he was in for the hairdryer treatment.

"First you essentially lose a Solarbeam TM, and now you give away Earthquake – which is arguably better. Do I have to follow you around to keep your finances in check?"

Blade didn't answer and Raven sighed.

"Soon you're not gonna have any more TMs to spend all willy-nilly."

"Please," Blade said sarcastically, "I'm loaded, what with being the best hunter of the village and all."

"Modest, too," Raven said, rolling her eyes.

Blade smiled and flicked her on the chin, which brought a smile.

"Well, I don't care. But don't come crying to me when all you have left are Protect and Safeguard TMs."

Blade laughed.

"I'll bear that in mind."

Ten minutes later, the two companions reached the point where they had left Sala and Chari to muck around. They were still snapping at each other , even after the two hours that Blade and Raven had left them for. Raven raised one of her eyebrows.

"She doesn't have this much energy when we have clean-up," she said, referring to Chari.

"Just like Sala," Blade replied, "Sometimes, he'll catch two Spearows before giving up and collapsing at my feet, snoring."

"I don't know. Maybe you're working him to death."

"Hey!" Blade jabbed an accusing finger at her. "That Pokémon has a great life. All I ask for is a bit of hunting in return."

Raven shrugged. "Maybe I'll have to tag along and see what's going on."

"Depends on how you deal with blood," Blade replied, scratching the back of his head. "There's a lot of it."

"Blood, my ass!" Raven exclaimed abruptly, causing Blade to look at her in surprise. "I didn't get worked up over the Fearow you just caught. _That_ was pretty bloody."

Blade looked her over for a second. For such a skinny girl that was a whole head shorter than he was, she was tougher than she appeared.

"Yeah, whatever," Blade said, shaking his head. "Let's call them in." He took out a Pokéball.

"Right." Raven nodded and took out one too.

"Sala! Chari!" Blade called.

The two dragons paused mid-bite. Blade and Raven held up the Pokéballs and they visibly deflated, their fun cut short.

"Return!" the owners shouted in unison. The balls snapped open and a red light cascaded over the Pokémon, bathing them in it before grabbing them and pulling them into the thing that was a hundredth the size they were.

"That's that," Blade said, putting the Pokéball back in his satchel. He was about to turn and leave when Raven's awed voice stopped him.

"Blade, look at that," she said. Blade looked up, at where she was pointing.

The setting sun was just about bearable to look at, surrounded by red, orange and magenta clouds. The sky surrounding those clouds was a mix between pink and orange, combing the natural soft light with the dust picked off of the surrounding buildings through constant abrasion. Blade could only mutter one word, and that was "Wow."

"Don't get something like that often," Raven mused, tossing her hair. "Usually the dust blocks it out totally."

"I know. Stupid dust," Blade growled as he kicked at a pile built up near his feet, which scrambled out of the way.

"Not only is it beautiful," Raven sighed in wonder, "but it's also a sign that we should be heading back."

Blade shook himself out of his dreamlike state.

"That it is," he laughed. "Come on then."

But he couldn't move. He was so mesmerised by the beauty of the natural spectacle before him that he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off it. It was as if the sun had used 'Follow Me'.

Suddenly, a loud clanging rang out from the village. Blade jumped up and grabbed Raven's hand.

"What the hell," she muttered woozily, as if being woken from sleep. But then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped for the fourth time that day. Blade immediately started to run back, still holding Raven's hand, and this time she didn't complain. That ringing meant that whatever you were doing, wherever you are, whoever you are, stop what you're doing and get out of there. It meant something horrid, something that hadn't happened in a long time. This is why it came as such a shock to Blade and Raven. Blade replayed the meeting in his head, all leading up to the conclusion.

"When this bell rings," the elder spoke, "get back to the village as soon as possible."

He paused as he steadied himself.

"It means the hunt is coming."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this is late, guys. Nintendo has been distracting me with their pre-E3 announcements and such. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**A knowledgeable gunman: Really? I thought snipers were all clean and whatnot. Oh, and thanks! **

**japaneserockergirl: Thanks! Haha, I'm not the best at cliffhangers, but I'm glad it had you in suspense.**

**RoseWing-chan: Thanks! I thought the story was sad too... considering we never found out what happened to Snowball.**

**ZeldaRubix: I know XD It's really tough for me to write over that much, but thanks for that!**

**Bowserboy129: Haha, maybe. Maybe...**

**alwaysingirl: Thanks for reviewing alwaysingirl! Glad you like it. Admittedly the whole hunting thing threw me off a little too. This chapter will also explore the subtle savagery that the humans and Pokémon all house within themselves.**

**P.S. I know this chapter ends off in a weird place, but bear with me. My brain's still fried from all the Wii U Nintendo Direct news :D**

* * *

III

It was as if the village had ceased to exist. Even the moon's relatively bright light could not illuminate the outlines of the shacks peppered around the area, casting white shadows that told of their presence. Overhead, a small-ish bird by the name of Noctowl circled the area, its eyes glowing red as they surveyed the area with its unmatched vision. Thanks to the red wide beams emanating from its eyes, the tattered, decrepit buildings flashed bloody crimson for just a moment, and then dimmed back into darkness as the light passed. As its eyes passed over the buildings, Noctowl found no sign of movement or life. As if programmed like a robot, it moved to another area, scanned that spot, then moved on. And again with that area. On and on with no sign of hesitation. The monotony would drive anyone with a shred of sentience to near insanity, especially since Noctowl hadn't found a human in over three years. But Noctowl, as if either oblivious to this consequence or indeed not bearing any smidge of sentience, carried on hovering over the isolated village, scanning it, finding nothing. Scanning it, finding nothing. Scanning it, finding nothing…

The reason it was doing this was drilled into its brain back when it was a Hoothoot. It was at a huge assembly in what the humans used to call a 'Contest Hall'. All of the seats in this hall were destroyed, but the extent varied. Some seats were mangled by the unrelenting heat of fire, while others were missing completely, decaying extremely slowly in a pit somewhere. But even though there was no way to seat down properly, over one hundred thousand Pokémon filled the stadium most of which were standing on the pale brown grass that was the stadium's heart, where the appeals and battles took place. Chatter was saturating the empty air. Multi-coloured wondrous creatures were still but certainly animated – some of them gesticulated wildly as they argued the point of Mewtwo's summoning them here.

Hoothoot, like most of the other Flying-type Pokémon, was perched on the outer rim of the open-topped stadium. It was sitting by itself, flanked a metre each way by a two Pidgeots who were twice the size of it and eyeing the stage fiercely, intensely. Hoothoot turned its head to each one seeing if it would get a reaction, but the Pidgeots' eyes were glued to that stage, as if it was going to stand up and do a dance. Hoothoot sighed and looked at it as well, waiting for Mewtwo to enter the stadium.

And he did, fifteen minutes later. There was no applause or acknowledgement as one after the other Pokémon hushed and turned towards the stage. Mewtwo merely waited as the Pokémon's voices disappeared one at a time. After it was silent, he surveyed the stadium. Eyes of different shapes, colours and sizes stared at him, and he stared right back with his steel-grey narrowed eyes. It was only after a minute of tense, agitated silence that Mewtwo finally spoke. His voice was like thunder in the miraculously silent space.

"All of us," he began. The Pokémon flinched and jumped at the suddenness of his opening.

"All of us are powerful, amazing creatures. We have abilities unlike any other life-form in the universe. Some of us can fly" – he pointed up at the Flying Pokémon and they ruffled their feathers anxiously – "some of us can control fire. Some of us can current of electricity through without the slightest need for effort."

His hand fell to his chest, and it was started to shake ever so slightly.

"Some of us can control anything, move anything… attack anything, with only the use of our mind."

His hand fell from his chest to his side, next to his huge hip.

"We have been at war with m…" He stopped himself. He couldn't bring himself to say it. His hatred for them overrode his capacity for fluent public speaking.

"Our _enemies _for eight years now. And, as always…"

He raised his hand triumphantly to the sky.

"We are _winning_!"

The Pokémon each cheered in their own odd ways, some spraying the elements into the air and others stomping large feet. The rapturous noise was incredible, a loud scream in an otherwise quiet graveyard of decimated buildings and the human and Pokémon corpses of war. Mewtwo raised a hand, trying to regain the silence he once had. There was a minute full of Pokémon nudging each other and hushing, like a ripple that started from the very front. The silence roared again after everyone stopped speaking, save for the pitter-patter of sound here and there that fell like random raindrops on dry ground.

"As I said, we're winning, but we haven't won altogether quite yet. Our mission is to rid the world of _all_ humankind, correct?"

Nobody answered, wondering whether or not the question was rhetorical.

"Correct?" Mewtwo repeated abruptly, and the Pokémon cried out in the affirmative.

"Humankind has poisoned our land," Mewtwo hollered over the lessening noise. "Worked us like Tauroses and Miltanks, forced us to fight each other when, in reality…"

He paused to take a breath.

"We were all made together by one Pokémon, and that is Mew. Every one of us has the same ancestor. So surely we should be living in harmony, like a big family, as one and the same."

The audience whooped in approval but Mewtwo carried on.

"Our world has been poisoned, literally and figuratively, by humankind. They have poisoned the land us Pokémon once held dear by building themselves houses and industrial factories that were constantly spewing out gases harmful to our habitats. We can no longer drink or play or travel across the river in Route 134 because of the waste expelled at the ports of Slateport. The waste has become so prevalent and has been there for so long that the water has been contaminated irreversibly, rendering it unsafe to swim, drink or travel in. And these humans think they know how to rule this glorious planet!"

Another whoop.

"As for the figurative poisoning, it was inside our minds. The humans bred us purely to serve them, to fight for their amusement. How did you tolerate such brutality and humiliation for all these years? Did none of you stop to think about why you were fighting your ancestral siblings?"

There was an uncomfortable silence as the Pokémon pondered over what he had just said. It was true; they had fought each other without any thought for the Pokémon they were battling. All their loyalty was with their trainer, who was safely on the side-line shouting at them to attack and dodge and generally give them the goal of beating their 'foes' into submission with their fire, water or ghostly spectral power. Urging them to harm. Even the young humans, those who were meant to be the most innocent, joined in the sport, for the fighting was masked by the fame, fortune and glamour of becoming League Champion.

"And now you know why it had to be done. Their extermination, I mean. They would not have learned sense by themselves, and there's no way they would have listened to us. They are stubborn, unwilling to learn of the mistakes they have made. They have to be destroyed, no matter what the cost. In fact, we are almost finished with them. The regions Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh and Unova have all fallen. Most of Hoenn has been rid of the scum. However, I know that some remain." He closed his eyes. "Although I don't know exactly where, I can sense them. They must be very good at hiding from the Scythers."

He opened his eyes suddenly and some Pokémon jumped in surprise.

"This is why I have called you here. I am thinking of a way to kill the last survivors."

He pointed straight up at the birds perched on the outer rim of the stadium. Hoothoot almost fell backwards in shock. It was as if Mewtwo was pointing directly at him, at his red wide eyes.

"Hoothoot!" Mewtwo shouted, and everyone in the stadium turned to look at it in unison. Hoothoot felt their eyes pierce into it. Some were curious, some were incredulous, but they were all very intimidating. Hoothoot felt its head sink into his neck involuntarily.

"Your eyes, as well as your evolution's, are the best we have in this stadium. Your sight is unmatched and you also have the ability to light the way before you. Therefore, I have decided that you and the Scythers will work together to find this group of resilient…"

He searched in his mind for the right word.

"…cretins and exterminate them."

The Scythers in question were lined up at the front of the stadium, just in front of Mewtwo. They were the ruthless monsters in charge of finding any survivors and exterminating them outright with their deadly, huge, sharp scythes. They were incredibly talented hunters who could feel vibrations and who had the ability to run three times faster than the average human. Their hard skin, only vulnerable around the neck, was impenetrable by a simple blades. It would take a lot of force and a very sharp to get through it. It was due to their appearance and grisly job that Mewtwo and Rayquaza had dubbed them, with the slightest non-existent puff of humour, 'the reapers' after the Grim Reaper.

The Scythers clacked their scythes together and whooped. The scythe-clacking vaguely sounded like clapping. The Noctowls and Hoothoots surrounding the dome ruffled their feathers and cooed triumphantly. Above the small noise, Mewtwo spoke.

"This is it! We are almost finished!" Mewtwo bellowed, rousing the rest of the Pokémon into tremendous applause. He kept shouting over the noise, something about 'triumph and honour', but Hoothoot could hardly hear him. It was too busy shouting along with the rest of the audience, sucked into the beautiful atmosphere as if there was a drug in the air.

That assembly brought fond memories to Noctowl, for it marked the first day that it actually felt like it was a part of something. Its job was an important one; it felt like an undercover agent investigating a rival company. Its partner, a Scyther, crept into the corridor formed by the houses of the villagers, scythes poised and ready. It peeked into the darkness, jumping as Noctowl's light splashed over its field of vision. Nothing. There appeared to be no sign of life at all here. Just decrepit shacks, huts and buildings that seemed to be empty and had been so for a long time.

Suddenly there was a swish, a glimpse of dark movement out of the corner of its eye. It span around, scythes raised, and hissed loudly, signalling for Noctowl to illuminate the culprit only a few metres away. Noctowl obliged and turned, passing the light in front of Scyther only to reveal a relatively young Bidoof with an Oran Berry held in its tiny paws. Noctowl heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that it hadn't been someone intending to kill Scyther. But then its relieved expression turned into an open mouth of shock and alarm as a horrid, gargled cry sounded and a spatter of blood sprayed across the ground, looking death black in the crimson light. Scyther removed his scythe from the ground and grinned devilishly at his work, at the innocent Pokémon sliced cleanly in half, the Oran Berry having escaped and hiding under a building. Noctowl hissed at Scyther, who hissed back, its eyes still on the bifurcated Bidoof. Its eyes were open, its mouth frozen in a bite, reaching for the Berry that abandoned it. Blood was still spraying from its ruptured arteries, but after a few seconds its heart stopped and it ceased flowing. There was finally one less Bidoof in the world.

Noctowl hissed again and Scyther turned, waving its weapons threateningly at it. Noctowl didn't care about Scyther's threats; it could always fly out of reach of those scythes' reach, but if anything was to be remembered from that assembly years ago, it was that all Pokémon were meant to co-operate, to live together. They needed to work together instead of fighting, for killing the humans was their top priority. However, here was a Scyther that it had been paired with, that it barely knew, killing its symbolic relative.

Noctowl closed its eyes and shook its head, the light only coming out of the small slits made by its eyelids. Scyther hissed again at the sudden darkness, and Noctowl flew to another area, scanning it, finding nothing and moving on, as was the original routine.

In a house nearby the crime scene, Blade lay underneath his bed, as still as a dead mannequin. He shuddered at each sound, craning his neck to hear where and what the Scyther was doing. At this particular moment, it was right next to his house. He held his breath and moved his head back from its stretched position, careful not to make any sudden movements that the Scyther could feel. Suddenly there was a loud hissing sound. It was so loud that it confirmed that the Scyther was right by his door. Then a bright red flash of light cascaded through his window and he gasped in reflex.

_Have I been discovered? _

That can't have been possible; his hiding place was well out of sight of the window. So then why was the Noctowl shining its light over his house? Had the Scyther felt the miniscule vibrations caused by his movement?

His thoughts were cut short as a cry sounded somewhat further away, and an audible squirt of liquid. There was then a distant hiss, which he guessed was the Noctowl, and the sound of something rolling on hard ground and then… wood?

Blade craned his neck again. He could barely make out in the thin red light coming from Noctowl's closed eyes, a Berry, though he wasn't sure which kind it was. By the sound of the cry and the Berry rolling into his house, Blade concluded that the Scyther had just killed a Pokémon. Probably one curious, asking to play but being shot down by an emotionless psychopath. He gritted his teeth.

_How could Scyther just kill a Pokémon without a second thought? _

It just proved that they didn't kill you first and asked questions later but rather killed you first and threw you on a pile of bodies later.

The thin light moved on from Blade's house and he sighed in relief. He had remained unnoticed, but his breath was still hitched in his throat. Sure, the Scyther had moved on from his house but that didn't stop it discovering another villager. His neck was still craned to hear any sign of movement, but since he couldn't hear the Scyther anymore he stayed where he was, so as not to risk detection. The only sounds he could hear now was the whisper of the breeze and the distant flap of wings. He couldn't hear any footfalls or shifting gravel, meaning the Scyther had been long gone from near his house. Blade tentatively pushed upward on his mattress to get some leverage, then pushed away from underneath. The minute scuffling his trousers made as they made contact with the ground sounded like a rushing waterfall compared to the silence surrounding him. Still, he pushed himself away until eventually he was staring up at the wooden beamed ceiling. He stood up and tiptoed surreptitiously toward the wall, pressing an ear against the rough surface. The quiet flap of wings passed away about ten minutes later, and then there was complete and utter silence. Blade sighed and flopped onto his bottom. The hunt had been unsuccessful once again.

* * *

XxX

The sound Blade first when he woke up was clamour, and a large one at that, right outside his door. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and marched to the door. There was a large crowd in front of his house, blocking his way into the street created by the two rows of shacks. There was a hole in the middle of the crowd, and the people surrounding that hole were looking down at something with disgust and shock.

"Excuse me," he said, pushing the nearest shoulder gently. It gave way and he went through it. He passed more shoulders until eventually he got to where the centre of attention was, looking down on the offending thing. It was a Bidoof unlike any other. Its eyes were frozen in a staring contest with the ground and its mouth was open in a hungry face.

_But what's with its body?_

Usually, whenever a Scyther came to their village and killed a Pokémon, it was by a sort of humane way of slicing it through the neck, dealing almost instantaneous death. The villagers hadn't quite seen anything of this utter savagery. The body was sliced in half, the Bidoof's head and arms on one side and tail and legs on the other. The blood was like a pond around a corpse subjected to a Viking funeral, so much was its prevalence. And in this pond little ducks swam about – ducks shaped like lungs, kidneys and a liver. The sight was enough to make Taela – the person who skinned Pokémon for a living – gag.

Ecia and the other elders were surrounding the pool, staring down at the corpse with disgust and contempt. Ecia snorted once and held her hand up, as did the others, and a wave of silence rushed over the crowd.

"We are calling a town gathering," the oldest man bellowed, surprisingly loud given his age. The crowd started to disperse and headed toward the decimated, large building that was known in earlier times as a 'Pokémon Centre'. Blade followed the crowd, and the elders followed after him shortly afterward. He caught a glimpse of Raven on the outskirts of the tide of people. As he walked towards her, he noticed she had worry strewn across her face.

"Hey," Blade said as he drew close. Raven looked back and smiled.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the hunter of the year. Where were you all this time?"

Blade wrung his hands.

"Don't blame me. I was awake all night wondering what the noise was." He paused. "I could hear the Scyther just outside my house…"

He brought up his right hand and made a sort of box symbol, then raised his left, pointing two fingers down to symbolise legs.

"I just heard it walking up…"

The fingers wiggled back and forth and slowly approached the box.

"And I was listening so hard. All I could hear was the Scyther's footsteps and the Noctowl's wings. That's all I could hear for a while. Then suddenly!"

He brought his hands together in a loud clap and Raven, who was watching them so intently, jumped.

"Damn!" she hissed. Blade carried on.

"I heard it. The Scyther's blade came down with a 'whooshing' sound and there was a loud 'thunk', then the sound of water being spilt. Then a Berry rolled underneath my house. I haven't checked which one it is yet."

Raven stroked her chin in thought.

"Berry, huh? The Bidoof must've been holding it. Probably for its babies."

Blade grunted and gritted his truth. That was a very possible assumption. What if that Bidoof had another mouth to feed? Killing it was one thing, but if it had children, the Scyther had ultimately just killed an entire family.

"Never thought of it like that," he said finally. There was a solemn silence between them that ended when the crowd reached the Pokémon Centre.

"Where should we stand?" Raven asked. Blade looked around. The hall was saturated, with barely a blank space to be seen. The fact that they were flanked left and right, squished against each other's shoulders, meant that even if there was a space going, they probably wouldn't get through the crowd to reach it.

"Screw it. Let's just stay here," Blade said, and Raven nodded. The spot they decided to stay in was near the exit and far from the front, where the elders would host the meeting. Not only would hearing them be a struggle, but if they had questions the elders, with their withered eyes and well-worn hearing, would probably not be able to answer them.

The elders made their way to the top of a raised platform, and a silence rippled through the room. Even the younger children and babies seemed to settle.

The elder that had called the meeting, Axelon, stepped away from the group.

"Fellow villagers. The elders and I have been discussing our situation vigorously over the past century or so. Every other year we establish new rules and overturn others, and we know that this could be frustrating to some of you. We thank you for your patience."

A mild patter of applause.

"But, through it all, I want to congratulate you all for your adherence to the rules. Thanks to this, we have avoided yet another hunt."

There was a larger round of applause for this as well as a bit of cheering to celebrate to avoidance of being detected once again. Some of the people were still shaking, nerves having not recovered from being jittered by the Scyther. Axelon raised his hand and the applause diminished.

"But our survival has raised another issue. Namely an issue involving the Bidoof killed brutally in the street. We may have avoided the hunt for another day, but if that Bidoof tells us anything, it's that the Scythers are getting more and more savage. If we aren't careful, we could end up split through the middle like it was."

A clamour grew. Blade and Raven looked at each other and grimaced. Being sliced in half and eaten by hungry Pokémon didn't seem like the most honourable or desirable way to leave this life.

Axelon raised his hand again for quiet, and as Blade squinted he noticed the slightest twist of exasperation on his face.

"It is therefore of the utmost importance that we avoid detection by any means necessary, and this means we must carry on make changes. One of the changes that will be made…"

The crowd bristled in anticipation. The rules hadn't been changed for a while - not since the last hunt, actually. That change was that no movement was to made whatsoever. This change was made after a Zigzagoon that no-one had heard was sliced by the Scyther, bloody pieces decorating the surrounding houses. The elders concluded that this was because the Scythers could feel movement.

"The change that will be made," Axelon continued, "is that any and all Pokémon killed by the Scythers must be left exactly the way it is. They will not be removed, not even for food."

There was a tremendous silence. Blade took the opportunity to take a look at the shocked faces of the villagers. Most of them had an open mouth and wide eyes. Some had arched eyebrows. Others had grimaces. Blade could predict the questions they were going to ask. In the following disturbance, the questions all came at once.

"How can we just leave it in the street?"

"Who made this decision?"

"Won't the Bidoof start to rot?"

Axelon and the other elders shouted above the din, but it showed no sign of diminishing. Blade looked over the raised fists at the group of elders. Axelon and most of the other elders were banging on tables, chairs and other things in order to grab the crowd's attention, shouting for order. Ecia was still seated in her chair, and she looked like she had a smirk on her face, a smirk formed by smugness or self-satisfaction. The volume of the clamour rose suddenly and Blade barely dodged a flailing fist.

"We have good reason for this!" Axelon shouted. "Just hear what we say!"

That had no effect. This usually happened at the end of the meetings, only after a few minutes the crowd settled down and the elders explained their cause. But this meeting felt different. There was no wavering of the voices sparking a riot today.

It was so much that Axelon, who never gave up on anything, threw his hands down and exited from the back exit of the Centre. Blade looked at Raven, barely visible under the weight of shadows. There was something different about this crowd today, a difference that worried Blade.

The signs for something worse to come were becoming clear.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Geez, this is late. Sorry guys! It was pretty tough for me to write this one (I am NOT good at filling the gaps) so it's pretty late. Anyway, thanks for your reviews!**

**ZeldaRubix: I know you've been waiting for this for a long time XD I am indeed focusing on the meanings of this story and try to make it need a lot of inference, which, in turn, makes it 'deep'. In this regard I am greatly inspired by 'Lord of the Flies', a classic novel by William Golding. That book is FULL of symbolism :P**

**japaneserockergirl: I know, right? Glad you liked it, and also glad you got the feel of tension. That's exactly what I was going for. Thanks!**

**Seikatsu32: Thanks for reviewing, new reviewer! Glad you like it. I always think when writing things they should be to the point, blunt, and not relying on euphemisms. In this way it has a larger effect on the reading. The Hunger Games trilogy is a great example of this. If you haven't read it I really recommend it!**

**RoseWing-chan: That was another atmosphere I was going for XD Glad you got the scary side to it!**

* * *

IV

Before it got too out of hand, the elders (minus Axelon) dismissed the meeting. Everyone was filing out of the Pokémon Centre in a mainly disgruntled manner, with some angered faces peppering the heavily breathing mass. Blade and Raven followed along. Blade had a neutral expression while Raven contributed to the angry faces of the villagers.

"Another damn rule and a crap one at that!" she yelled to no-one in particular. "How do these elders think?"

Blade merely shrugged.

"I dunno. Though Ecia seemed pretty weird about it. Like she was pleased with herself or something. Also, did you notice how she just sat there while the other elders tried to calm us down?"

Raven's shoulders seemed to slump and she breathed in deeply. As she exhaled, a wisp of sand flittered from her lips and joined the rest.

"I did notice that. I'm not sure why. Maybe she also thought about how the dead, _rotting_ Bidoof corpse would be stinking right outside your house. Seriously, how can you be so indifferent to this?"

There was a pause in which Blade ran his hands over his face.

"I've been dulled," Blade whispered solemnly through the gap made by his hands.

Raven bit her tongue and rested her eyes on the ground. Blade had confided in her the true events of that day, and she was the only one who properly knew what happened. The rest of the villagers were pulled under the illusions and theories the elders had passed, and seemed to help dull the pain a little. She recalled the day with every single detail as Blade told her. The dust seemed to swirl into figures as her mind hummed with activity, blocking out the shattered voices surrounding her.

XxX

Way back when, years back, something happened. There was another hunting party, two Scythers. Blade was fifteen years old. The elders had told everyone in an earlier meeting to stay exactly where they were. This particular hunt occurred before the rule was passed that no movement was to be made whatsoever, but the rule was already passed that no sound was to be made. Blade was in his house with his parents, who were also hiding. Under the beams of the roof, a lampshade creaked and swayed. Blade's father reached out a hand to steady it, then rested a finger on his lips. Blade and his mother nodded. The lamp stilled. Night finally fell as a cry of '_Noctowl_!' swooped through the cold air and a flap of wings signalled the beginning of the hunt. Blade huddled further into his mother's stomach and felt her hand slowly stroke his head.

The hunts had started twelve years ago, when the rest of the population had been dealt with. This was the tenth hunt that he and his parents had survived. Some would say that this is a grand achievement, as many people from the village had not survived up to their fifth. This was mainly because his parents heeded every word the elders spoke. They believed that whenever the elders made a decision, it was for the villagers' benefit. Of course, not many people thought the same way, but they couldn't fault the family's persistence in surviving. It was interesting to note that it was Taela's sixth hunt, and this was because she took the family's advice to listen to the elders. Many of the people who had been killed in the previous hunts had not adhered fully to the rules. Blade's father pointed at their gruesome, shredded bodies and said, "Let this be a lesson to you, Blade," after which Blade hastily nodded and turned away, obviously disturbed by the sight.

So here they were, waiting for the first footsteps to form. Blade's father had the trademark grimace that the hunt brought him. Blade's mother was still holding Blade, stroking his head, but making absolutely no sound. The thump of the footsteps travelled through the wall, and Blade's father put his finger to his lips again. The thumps sounded far away at first, but gradually got louder and louder until eventually. Blade stiffened. His father kept his hand pressed to the wall, a tactic only he utilised and was able to perform properly. But feeling each footstep's vibration through the wall of the house, he could determine how many Scythers were on the hunt. So far, he felt only the thump of one pair of feet, but then as he squinted and tensed, he felt the dim outline of another pair. The first, then the next, like two soldiers of war signalling to each other.

He mouthed 'two' to his wife who nodded. Blade couldn't see this as his head was still turned from his father. His mother put two fingers in front of his eyes and he nodded slowly. Two. The last few hunts only had one. Out of the ones that had actual deaths, the probability was in two Scythers' favour. Blade could only imagine what it would be like if there were three.

Another cry of '_Noctowl_!' snapped him out of his gruesome daydream. The thumps were now practically outside, so close his could feel the buzz of each vibration. They were slow, methodical and instilled fear. Fear into Blade anyway. His father and mother were dulled against the screams of the victims, while Blade had recurring nightmares, the kind only a tortured, insane mind would dream up.

Suddenly, the thumps picked up in intensity and speed. Blade's breath stopped and he swallowed the lump in his throat. The thumps stopped. Blade was so stiff he arms were starting to ache. The silence was tremendous; Blade wondered whether such a thing could be possible. Complete and utter silence. Or maybe his mind wasn't picking up the flap of wings so far away.

The Scyther's hiss blazed through his ears like a searing stream of fire. Then, like a real fire, the colour red punctured his vision. The cold darkness was sudden set alight by the crimson bloody light. It was so bright and the sudden pain that surged through Blade's head made Blade think that his eyes were bleeding. He yelped instinctively but clamped his mouth shut before he thought any lasting damage had occurred. His parents were looking down at him with alarm. Blade's eyes were wide too as he just realised what he had done.

He had broken rule 1.

A scythe scraped through the weak wall, then another. Blade's father picked up his wife and dragged her, Blade holding her arm, to the stairs.

"Up, quickly!" The phrase was so short, it was as if there was no time for more instructions. Blade complied and went first, his mother in tow. The crashing sound from downstairs as the wall was shredded to splinters was so loud Blade had to cover his ears. They got to the top of the stairs just as the crashing, splintering noise stopped and only footsteps were penetrating what was once silence.

Somewhat roughly, Blade's father threw his wife and son into the hole made by a past fireplace, quite big in size, and crammed himself in, squeezing a second-hand cabinet in front of it in an attempt to camouflage themselves from the assassins. The footsteps reached the top of the stairs. The family's breathing was loud and exhausted, but they seemed to get it under control. Except for the timid rasps shared between them, everything was silent. Through the gap made by the wall and the cabinet, Blade could see red light. As he had run through it earlier, he was now accustomed to the terrific phenomenon. Light, from a Pokémon's eyes? Such a thing was unheard of.

The silence was broken again as the sound of crashing and breaking furniture. The family's hug seemed to tighten at each sound. Blade was glad that they were safe, and most importantly together. If Blade had lost either one of his parents along the way he'd probably be a snivelling heap of flesh. Unable to control his tears like the yelp he had just let out. The Scythers would have found him, following the pathetic trail of tears and…

A huge crash sounded and rocked him like a skittle. Blade yelped silently and clung on to his mother's hand so hard he thought it would burst. It was a comfort, then, that she didn't let go. Still looking out for her son ahead of herself, even when it seemed to be close to the end.

The crash dimmed into silence again. Then once of the Scythers hissed loudly, to which the other responded with a quieter hiss. Footsteps then formed, and they sounded like they were marching into the distance. Another aspect of these footsteps was that they seemed to echo for a second, and the only thing that would make this sound when it was stepped on was the stairs.

Blade's conclusion matched his parents', for his father pressed the familiar finger to his lips again. Again, the miraculous silence blazed again. The family waited for a silence-filled minute. Nothing. You could have almost heard the collective sigh of relief.

Blade's father lightly pushed the cabinet, which moaned grumpily, and stuck an eye out into the room. Since there was absolutely no light, it wasn't illogical to assume that the Noctowl had disappeared from this area. Therefore, it was completely black; not even the dark outlines of objects could be seen. Therefore it was with the sense of huge trepidation that Blade's father crept out of behind the cabinet. But in this trepidation, there was hope and, if one pushed away the clutter and peered into the innermost corners of his mind, dread.

50% apprehension, 48% hope, 2% dread.

Blade's father finally emerged from behind the cabinet, and his body was completely in the room. If there was anything hell-bent on attacking him, they'd have done it by now. Blade and his mother's ears worked overtime, more than they had ever done. The only sounds produced were the scuffles and shuffles of Blade's father's movement. Their now-enhanced hearing picked up that and nothing else, and their minds registered a new feeling entirely.

80% relief, 20% happiness.

But suddenly a new sound emerged from its hiding place. It was as quiet as a soft breeze, and at first none of the family heard it. But then Blade's father, out of sheer coincidence, stopped his movement. At first, Blade thought the somewhat ethereal noise was the wind whistling through the cracks of the house, mingling with the dust on the ground to provide a soothing sound not unlike the tides of the sea. But it had a distant evil quality to it. It wasn't constant; there were tiny breaks in it, like the breath of a person. Breath. And breath means life. If that's the case…

Blade's face blanched at the realisation. The sound was the hiss of an assassin.

As if psychic, the next sound heard was a footstep, a surprised yelp, the brief thumps and knocks of a scuffle.

…And a splat.

Blade whimpered silently and his mother pulled him closer. The silence fluctuated as many thumps and grunts sounded. Familiar grunts to Blade. They sounded like his father exerting himself hunting.

The silence returned to them once more, apart from soft drips piercing through now and again. Blade buried his face further into his mother's bosom. The drips persisted, each of them making Blade flinch. They were so loud compared to the rest of the silence. His mother was shuddering, which showed as they moved Blade's head up and down. He then realised the drips weren't what he thought they were, but rather his mother's tears plopping down noisily onto the wooden ground. In an effort to stem the noise for fear they were discovered, Blade moved his head into their path, so instead of making a loud dripping sound they did no more than absorb into his thick hair and expire in a non-existent puff. Having his mother here, stemming the noise of her tears, Blade felt a little more at peace. Even if the despicable beast was still here, his mother was closer.

But suddenly the beating heart of his mother was ripped away from him. As he looked up in horror she coughed and his face registered liquid. The end of a sharp point poked at his chest insistently, wanting to be let in. But this brought some confusion. Blade's mother was shielding his chest with her body, but if the scythe was let through to his chest then…

Blade felt the terrible relief of his mother's body being lifted off of him. More thumps were heard and the shrill scream of a woman shook him. Then the sound of a knife spraying through meat was heard and then… silence.

"Oh God," Blade shuddered wheezily. "Oh God, oh God."

Apart from Blade's incredibly ragged breathing, for the umpteenth time that night there was silence. He didn't risk movement, for that was exactly how his father was lured out of his presumably 'safe' haven. Not safe anymore apparently. His mother was a tragic testament to that.

Suddenly the scythe ripped through the exposed side to the cabinet and struck the wall right beside Blade's ear. His breathing stopped and he barely had time to exhale before the bloodied weapon drew back and struck. The adrenaline running through Blade's circulatory system gave him almost superhuman reflexes, and he was able to dodge each thrust. Barely, but he hadn't been hit yet. This somehow still-going exercise carried on for five minutes, but Blade felt like each time the scythe careered into the wall and was painstakingly pulled out, hours had passed. It felt like early morning when his mother had been pulled from his clutches, and the first strains of day were only starting to break out now. The Scyther's scythe pulled out of the wall behind Blade and didn't return. It made a sound which sounded like a growl, but… almost human. Blade could have sworn that there was the hint of moodiness in that growl, or even frustration. Then the clomp-clomp-clomp of footsteps travelling down the rickety stairs filled his hears, and for the first time in what seemed like years the sounds of bird Pokémon flying overhead signalled the beginning of a new day.

But rather than look out the window to see what opportunities he and his father had for hunting as he had done every day, Blade stayed in the little alcove. The only indication of life in the house the moment the other villagers woke up was the sound of shuddering, muffled tears and a stream of salty, morose liquid being emanated from behind the cabinet. Even when the elders discovered him, he couldn't bring himself to leave. All he wanted to do was so irrational; just die, starve to death. A crueller, more painful way to die. He felt like he deserved it, as he was the cause of his parents' demise. It was like this for a full day until a girl, younger than him but only by a small margin, approached the alcove of the unintentional murderer and placed a Bidoof Taela had cooked by it. Then without pressing further, she left. Blade's cracked, hoarse, pathetic voice called out to her.

"What's your name?"

The girl swallowed and kept moving, but just before she reached the steps and spoke clearly, without faltering.

"Raven."

XxX

If she hadn't gone there that day to see the shameful display of life in that little alcove, Blade may not have been alive today. Ever since that day, she and Blade had been best friends.

Raven sighed and ran her hands over her face, then looked at Blade. He looked thoughtful, and she was curious.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Nothing really. Maybe what I'm gonna do today."

Raven remembered something.

"Oh, yeah. Did you remember that you still have to pick up Fearow from Rayden?"

"Ah, geez, I forgot. Let's go there now. I've got nothin' better to do."

Raven also didn't have anything to do. They walked down the road, Rayden's stall being a couple minutes away from where they were. As they walked the pool of blood came into view. They grimaced, looked at each other, and unlike the children circling and pointing at it with screwed up faces, they hurriedly rushed past. Now that the new rule was passed, it would never be removed, and Blade would have to walk past it every day to go hunting. And it was a guarantee that it wouldn't be removed; any rules that are broken result in exile, and with Scythers running everywhere trying to obliterate the human population it wasn't the best punishment. Your other option is refusing and staying in the village, which results in execution. Why so harsh? The rules were put in place so that the villagers would not be discovered. If rules were broken, the elders feared that the others would be discovered as well, and since there was a common belief that the village housed the only survivors of the war, this was crucial.

"Ugh," Blade said with an exhalation as they passed the Bidoof. Raven removed her fingers from her nose.

"Indeed."

They kept walking and the numbers began to thin. It seemed that everyone was going to their houses, perhaps to rant silently about the new decision. Everyone it seems, including Rayden. His stall was unoccupied, and there was no-one waiting nearby. Blade huffed. Rayden was open almost all the time.

"That's weird," he heard Raven say. And it was. Rayden was such a TM-grabbing skinflint it was rare that he took a day off.

"Maybe he's vomiting," Blade laughed, as did Raven. "Well, I'm gonna give him a reason to work extra hard when he actually does come back."

He started to walk back.

"Where are you going?" Raven inquired.

"Gonna get my stuff. You coming?"

Ah, that was it. His hunting gear. She knew that whenever something weighed down on his mind, Blade would pick up his bow and arrows and travel to another dimension, one filled with happiness and excitement. It seemed that whenever he got the kill, his problems seemed to disappear as the arrow pierced through the heart of his victim, taking all his sadness with it and depositing it in the body.

Raven waited outside Blade's house as he collected his equipment. He exited, quiver over his shoulder, bow in hand and Sala's Pokéball attached to his belt. She smiled. She hadn't seen the big galoot for a while.

"Alright, let's go."

Ten minutes later, they got to Blade's favourite hunting spot, just outside the village. As usual, he set his stuff next to the log, and Raven noticed it had diminished in size. It was the Wurmples. She didn't feel like sitting down.

"You know, I'm tired of this," Blade's voice struck pinched her.

"Tired of what, Blade?"

"Living life like scared little children. All under the clutches of some psychotic Pokémon who had the bright idea to eradicate all humankind and humans have to bear the brunt of his attack. How did things get so bad? I read somewhere that over a hundred years ago, humans and Pokémon all lived together, helping each other in their times of need. Where did it go?"

"I guess one finally snapped and, hey. He is a Psychic-type. They have an uncanny ability to get into your head."

"Yeah, I guess. But still I -"

He was interrupted by a cry of a Pokémon that sounded very close. It was insistent, frequent. Blade knew that a cry of this nature meant an isolated Pokémon who had strayed from the rest of the pack. The easiest target.

He put a finger to his lips and Raven instantly passed into a daydream. His father, doing the same action the night of his death. If Blade hadn't confided what had happened that night she wouldn't have known how crucial that sign was. It showed the implicit trust he had for her. If it was anyone else, Blade would now most likely be dead, exiled. After all, he had broken rule 1. Raven pursed her lips.

Blade disappeared into the dusty fog. The cry was still blasting through the air, almost as if the Pokémon was trying to get itself killed, to end its misery. The cry carried on for another minute until the sound of a thump replaced it, and it ceased to exist. Blade returned through the mist holding a Zigzagoon by its feet and grinning. Raven smiled back. Hunting; worked every time.

"Ugh, I forgot what I was going to say," Blade muttered to himself as he plonked down on the log.

"Yeah, so did I."

"Hm."

Suddenly, a louder cry emerged, but it wasn't from anywhere nearby. Rather, it was in the air. Blade strained his ears to the sound, trying to hear what Pokémon it was. A bird, not a bug, as he could hear flaps rather than a buzz. Raven would be happy then. But what Pokémon it was became clear as it got close, a single two syllable name that instilled fear into the village.

'_Noctowl_!'

"Get down!" he shouted. Raven looked around. There was nowhere to hide.

"Where?" she asked, panicking.

Blade looked around, and his gaze fell on the log. It was quite large, so enough to seat two people, but it was also hollow, and he estimated they could both fit if they squeezed together.

"In the log!" he shouted, diving in and not giving Raven any time to argue. She opened her mouth in protest, but quickly dove in after him as another '_Noctowl_' pierced the air. Suddenly her world was encapsulated in darkness, and all she could hear was the snuffled breathing of her friend next to her.

The '_Noctowl_'s passed over them swiftly, each one travelling in the direction of the village. After Blade was completely sure that the winged demon was past them, he nudged Raven and ducked out of the log. Raven did likewise and screwed up her face, brushing off Wurmples like there was no tomorrow.

"Ugh, get _off_ you goddamn freaks of nature!"

As Blade watched his friend brush off one of her fears, Blade remembered what he was going to say. One phrase spawned by the bloody history of the human and Pokémon relations, and one that caused fear for all human life. The fear that, one day, the Pokémon surrounding them would turn on them. They didn't want that. Blade was already unhappy with the way the humans were living, but to have to battle them head on was another nightmare for another time. But for now, the phrase he uttered defined his feelings on the matter, having to hide from every single thing that popped up in front of him. He was tired.

"I'm tired of living in fear."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Soooooo sorry guys. Seriously, I have no idea what's wrong with me. Terrible. In between being MAJORLY addicted to Metroid Prime, jobs and whatnot, I haven't had time to write. That or I'm just lazy. Regardless!**

**ZeldaRubix: I know you've bee waiting for this for a long time XD Thanks for your analysis. I didn't really try to base it off Rise of the Planet of the Apes, but I can see what you mean. Sorry as well. Hopefully the next chapter won't be too long to come.**

**japaneserockergirl: Sorry to you too! Haha, I'm such an idiot. And yes, there will be ACTION! :)**

* * *

V

The ocean was beautifully calm. No swimmers, no ferries, nothing to churn the waves and wreak havoc on the Pokémon living in it. A lone Pelipper flapped over the humid air and into a heat current, which picked it up and dragged it to heights that enthralled it. It swooped around, performing some theatrical tricks for nothing in particular. It was just flying, carefree. It wasn't flying from anything, not flying to anything. It was merely flying. This pastime was unique, something new and unknown to it. Usually it was flying to avoid a battle, or finding some berries for its young. But they had grown, left the nest as plucky Wingulls, pursuing dreams and building more families. Now the Pelipper had nothing to worry about. It wasn't tied to anything, just life, and of course the inevitable: death.

Something moved in the corner of its vision, just as it completed another barrel roll. It was in the water, something moving about in the waves. The ripple running away from it grew, grew, until eventually the sand on the coast swallowed it. On the other side, the ripple kept moving, becoming a small wave. Nothing major, more like a mere disturbance. The Pelipper flew downward to see what the commotion was about. Its eyes widened when it saw.

It was a Relicanth, a thing of relative beauty. It was only relative because the thing was not beautiful at all. But it was the Longevity Pokémon, and has been living for over 100 million years. Just imagine! The things it must have seen – the crafting of the world by the mighty Arceus, the pulling of the continents by the strong arms of Regigigas, the crafting of the oceans and the land by the rivals Groudon and Kyogre! Many beautiful sights. Relicanths were extremely wise, and therefore very important to the Pokémon living in the sea, serving a bit like overseers of the little schools of fish-like Pokémon.

Another thrash and a spray of fine water brought the Pelipper back to the present. The Relicanth was thrashing even harder, and Pelipper was having a hard time trying to suss out the problem. That is until the Relicanth slowed down, as if its energy had been spent during the last struggle. Pelipper caught sight of something white wrapped around the Relicanth's dorsal fin. Immediately it recognised it. Something the humans used to call a 'plastic bag'.

It quickly shouted '_Pelipper_!' – 'Stay still!' – and the Relicanth did so. The bag fluttered out and into the water. It was now that Pelipper noticed blood; only a little, flowing out of a wound on the fin where the bag was cutting into it. Pelipper charged up a Wing Attack, and with a quick whisk, the bag was sliced through and Relicanth's fin was freed. A bit more blood spurted out as the fin moved, but again, nothing major. The bag drifted away innocently, merely floating like a desirable object that had been thrown out to sea, waiting for another victim to come near.

With a burble of thanks, the Relicanth dove underwater. Pelipper quickly flew over to the bag, took on of the handles in its mouth and flew upwards. The next objective was clear: get this bag somewhere where nothing else would be harmed.

Suddenly, a spark of lightning erupted from underneath the clouds, and Pelipper just dodged it. Next a blast of searing fire, and then green pulses of energy. What was going on? The Pelipper dove down gracefully and swiftly. A tower came into view, and something on it. There was no way of telling what it was; the fog was very thick. But the silhouette reminded Pelipper of a Seviper, a snake-like Pokémon. But this one seemed a lot bigger than what it remembered.

The bag fluttering underneath it caught a gust of wind and for a second it slowed down. In that second, a burst of lightning again burst through the dark air, illuminating it as it travelled. Pelipper gasped and tumbled backwards in reflex, though it was already away from the bolt thanks to the bag it was holding slowing it down. The attacks seemed to be coming from the tower, that Seviper…

Pelipper could've sworn it was gunning for it. The reason? Unknown. Sevipers are known for eating the eggs of bird Pokémon on the ground, not a seabird's eggs. And even then, Pelipper wasn't an egg. It was about as far away from an egg as a Pokémon could get.

Making a split-second decision, the Pelipper dove again, parting the fog with its wings. Whatever was attacking had stopped now. Perhaps it was too low to be seen through the fog. An inward sigh of relief and of the Pelipper went, the bag trailing behind it, thrashing about like the Relicanth it just trapped. That was funny. It was like the Pelipper was trapping it right now.

Stupid plastic bag.

XxX

On the top of Sky Pillar, a green dragon that looked like a snake growled and let out a burst of flame to the heavens. It was alone on the roof. Not even Mewtwo, his best friend in the world and also his leader, was with him. He wasn't usually this inaccurate. Usually, his first shot would pulverise the Pokémon, sending them down to the ocean in a smoking heap. But how could he have shot at least five different attacks and not have one hit that Pokémon just now?

This was somewhat of a routine for him. Every day, looking out through the clouds, he'd wait for a flying Pokémon to travel through his line of sight. Then, in a test of his accuracy, he'd attack with all the power he could muster – Ice Beams, Dragonbreaths, Flamethrowers, Thunderbolts, and he would try to shoot it down first time. Second was acceptable. Third was bad. Fourth was abysmal. Fifth?

He put it down to the time of year being autumn, and therefore more clouds to go around and obscure his perfect vision. His accuracy had been pretty bad for the past few days, and there was the same amount of clouds then. Yes, that must have been it. The weather. Maybe as a cloud fluttered he'd shoot at it, and that's why he wouldn't see the smoking heap falling to the ocean. At the very least, his reflexes were excellent.

"Hey."

Mewtwo's voice. Rayquaza whirled around and tried to look innocent. He knew that this exercise was one Mewtwo wouldn't approve of, him trying to create an equal world for all Pokémon. Killing innocents didn't seem like a sign of equality.

"Hey, Mewtwo!" he blustered, perhaps a bit too quickly. He cursed under his breath.

"We're gonna get the results from the Scyther send-out. You coming?"

Rayquaza nodded. He was tired of getting frustrated at his own incompetence, and was looking forward to seeing someone else's, namely Mewtwo when he finds out that they have been unsuccessful. He stopped.

_You're not incompetent. It's the weather._

"Yeah, sounds good."

They entered, Rayquaza's large body trailing behind him, but his head staying level with Mewtwo's. The stairs came into view and the two went down, silent as they walked; Mewtwo because he was always nervous to know the results and Rayquaza so he wouldn't say anything to get Mewtwo's hopes up. Rayquaza knew more than anyone else that Mewtwo was a major force to be reckoned with. If they had a fight to the death together, Mewtwo could very well win. But even though Mewtwo was strong, he couldn't be everywhere at once. If he was, then the humans would have been a long time ago, not hiding and, well, living.

The narrow stairway opened outward and formed a room in which a few Scythers were waiting. Mewtwo cut to the chase.

"Alright, quickly now," he said, waving his hand impatiently.

A Scyther emerged from the group and bowed respectfully.

"Unfortunately, sir…"

Mewtwo threw his hands up and turned.

"That's it! You can go!"

He walked towards the stairs. The Scyther didn't move. Mewtwo stopped short.

"Why can I still sense you?"

There was an uncharacteristic menace in his voice. The Scyther cleared its throat, but didn't say anything. Mewtwo turned.

"Do you have a suggestion for me, perhaps? Is that what this is? If you have one, you'd best tell me now. If not, you can leave."

Rayquaza looked over at Mewtwo, then to the Scyther. The Scyther was silent and still, but Rayquaza noticed droplets of sweat emerging from its forehead. Why was it scared like this? Mewtwo only wanted what was good for Pokémon; he wasn't a tyrant. There was no need for it to be scared. The only thing that should've scared any Pokémon was the humans, and apart from a cunning group, they were all but gone.

After a moment of uncomfortable fidgeting, the Scyther cleared its throat once again.

"I think…" it began. It took a calming breath to steady itself. Mewtwo just eyed it evenly.

"I think we should give hunting the humans a rest for now. I think they're so scared that they can't really do any harm to us anymore.

Rayquaza noticed Mewtwo was gritting his teeth, and a faded blue area circling his head. A very quiet hum was beginning to sound; only Rayquaza could hear it.

"Are you foolish? We must exterminate them _all_! If we keep even a small group alive they could very well procreate and become a force to be reckoned with."

"But if that happens we could exterminate them again. It won't be that hard."

The other Scythers behind this one flinched slightly and hissed. Rayquaza understood what they meant.

_Stop talking. Right this instant._

But as if the Scyther got a boost from its comrades' attempt to hush it, it carried on. It seemed unaware of either Mewtwo of Rayquaza's emotions. That, or oblivious. It had a death wish for sure.

"We're wasting our time looking for these humans, sir. They are obviously of no threat to us."

"_Obviously_-!" Mewtwo stopped. Rayquaza noticed the aura become opaque, but again it dimmed into a translucent mist.

"You make it sound as if I'm the fool, Scyther. It's_ obvious_ that the humans are of no threat to us…"

The word 'obvious' came with a sneer, as if Mewtwo was mocking the Scyther.

"Am I so blind to not see? Is that it? I can't see something that is so _obvious_ to everyone else?"

Mewtwo was raising his voice. The aura around him started to turn more opaque until eventually Mewtwo's head looked like a blue light-bulb. The hum turned into a loud whine. Rayquaza was gritting his teeth with tension. The other Scythers were huddled into a mourning mass. The Scyther was either foolish or extremely brave, for he took it to the next step.

"Well, sir. If you want it put bluntly, yes. Wasn't our objective to make a safe world for us to live in?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

Mewtwo's fist clenched. The aura surrounding his head started to cascade down his chest, like an ethereal waterfall. The whine continued.

"I believe, quite strongly, that we are in no more danger, sir. I think it's safe to say we've won."

Suddenly, the waterfall flowing over Mewtwo stopped. Not even the mist was left behind. Rayquaza knew what was coming and really wanted to grin, but he felt sorry for the poor sod.

_You're a goner mate. See you in hell._ he thought to himself.

Mewtwo walked up, the widest grin on his face.

_Yup. Totally screwed._

"I'm still going with it. Still think I'm crazy?"

The Scyther swallowed.

"I wouldn't put it that way, sir. But I do think that this is unnecessary."

Mewtwo's eyes glowed bright blue. The Scyther suddenly pulsed and went limp, a blue mist surrounding it. The whine came back and cracked the wall.

"How about now?" Mewtwo shrieked maniacally.

The Scyther's back started to crease, as if hands were folding it. A snap sounded and it screeched out.

"Oh Arceus, it hurts!"

The other Scythers gasped loudly. Mewtwo jerked his head toward them, as if only becoming aware of their presence now. He pointed to one.

"Hold out your scythes!"

It was reluctant, of course. Rayquaza was shouting at Mewtwo to stop over the din of the whine. Telling him to stop.

"He's had enough!"

Mewtwo either couldn't hear him or was too preoccupied to be bothered.

"Hold out your Arceus-damn scythes!"

The Scyther was crying now, but it held out its trembling scythes horizontally.

"Point them up!"

Mewtwo's voice was deeper and hoarser now. It sounded like someone else was in his throat, speaking for him. The scythes went up. The traitorous Scyther in Mewtwo's power went down.

Blood sprayed over the Scythers and they screamed. The one holding out its scythes retracted them immediately, but it was too late. They had poked through to the other side, two slit shaped wounds lining the traitor's torso.

"Nobody is to question me!"

The lifeless body hovered in the air for a second, then floated to the centre, where a large opening fell right to the ground. The whine stopped and the aura surrounding the Scyther dissipated. Mewtwo's eyes closed and reopened, now normal. The Scyther's body disappeared down the shaft. The other Scythers stayed stock still; Mewtwo just smiled. His face didn't change. Even when the loud thump sounded as the Scyther hit the ground and everyone flinched. He just turned.

Without turning back, he said, "Clean him up when you go down. I'll give you your orders later."

He left, leaving the simpering mob of Scythers to file down the stairs. Rayquaza quickly followed Mewtwo up to the balcony, wondering what had just come over his friend. Mewtwo looked back at him, the smile not gone.

"You seem troubled, Ray. Anything the matter?"

Rayquaza shook his head.

"No, Mewtwo. Everything's good."

Rayquaza took the opportunity to look into Mewtwo's eyes. They were normal. Nothing. He was still the same person from an hour ago.

XxX

The Noctowl was still travelling towards the village and Blade and Raven were on its tail. They could barely see it because of the thick dust, but from the sound of its frequent cries, it was heading forward at a tremendous speed. While the two were good runners, they obviously couldn't keep up with it. Eventually the first shacks came into view and they stopped, doubled over and breathing hard. The Noctowl's cries got further and further away until eventually the only sound filling their ears was the '_whoosh_' of the sand beneath their feet. They recovered and started to walk through the street.

"I think it was okay," Raven said, "it didn't stop to survey or anything. I think we're safe."

Blade looked around. In between their leaving and returning, about an hour had passed. It was still quite bright out, so Blade assumed it was only early afternoon.

"Let's see if Rayden's back now."

Raven nodded. They kept walking through the street. There weren't many people around, Blade noticed. Including Rayden. Again.

"What is with that guy?" he yelled, running up to the stall. Raven followed closely. Blade started hammering on the table, on occasion striking the posts that held up the fabric roof.

"What are you doing, idiot?" Raven demanded, pulling Blade's arm back before he could strike the already crumbling stall again. "Do you wanna break it or something? 'Cause then you'll have to pay for it."

Blade stopped, grumbling under his breath as he pulled back his arm.

"I had the Zigzagoon for him to skin," he muttered in exasperation. He reached for the animal he had captured, but when his hand reached its destination, he couldn't feel anything. He looked down. No Zigzagoon. He must have left it at the log.

"Oh my fu-" Blade screamed as he went in for another shot. Raven saw what was coming and dealt a blow to his upper arm. Hard. It came down with an audible '_whump_' as it struck his side.

"Ah, jeez," he seethed, rubbing his arm. "Give me a dead arm, why don't you."

"Shut up, idiot. I was just stopping you from doing_ two_ things that are frowned upon around here."

Blade didn't let it go.

"I think there'll be a bruise there," he whined.

"Shut up," Raven said, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously, man. You know what bruises are, right?"

He leaned closer to make it seem more dramatic. It wasn't.

"Internal bleeding," he whispered.

Raven backhanded his chest lightly and he dodged, still nursing his injured arm. They continued walking away from Rayden's stall, passing the Bidoof blood puddle as they went. They then took their fingers off their noses and breathed heavily.

"It's getting worse."

They walked for a while. Blade suddenly realised that they were heading toward her place. He also noticed that he was hungry, having skipped breakfast.

"You got anything to eat around your place? I'm starving."

"What am I, a slave? Eat your own."

Blade mock-heaved. "See that? That was me throwing up after smelling the Bidoof rotting outside my door."

Raven seemed repulsed. Blade carried on.

"Bleurgh! Oh, look. It's all over you now."

Raven punched his other arm, but not strong enough to bruise. That was all she needed.

"Fine, fine. Come on then. I've got some leftover Bidoof from last night."

Blade almost retched for real.

"Anything else?"

Raven put a finger to her chin, stroking the beard she didn't have.

"I see your point. Well, I guess there's some Taillow."

"Perfect. Oh, by the way, how's Tyke doing?"

"Raven held up a hand to shush him.

"Don't get me started on _him_. The little punk's been getting on my nerves."

"How?"

They turned into the street where Raven's house was situated.

"Well," she whispered, bringing her voice down a notch or 10.

"He's been really angry about everything nowadays. I think he's under a lot of stress because of the hunts."

"Well, what's he been doing?"

"He keeps telling me that he's gonna leave. He says he's gonna fight Mewtwo. Worst part is, he's serious. He thinks he would win."

"Is he crazy? There isn't just Mewtwo to deal with here, there's legions of his puppets. And even if you get through those, Mewtwo sounds like one tough customer."

"I'm really worried," Raven said, running her hands over her face. Blade looked at her. There were two lines running through her forehead. They only showed up when she was agitated about something.

"Maybe I could talk some sense into him. Have a guy's opinion on the matter."

Raven's worry lines vanished. Her eyebrows fell.

"What's that supposed to mean?" There was anger in her voice. Blade had to rack his brain for an answer that wouldn't offend her more.

"I'm just saying," he began, holding his hands up, "that usually guys ask other guys on advice instead of girls. Especially if you're his age. You think he wants to listen to everything you say, even if it's for the best?"

Raven's hands fell from her hips and dangled uselessly by her legs.

"I guess so."

They reached her house. There was no sign that anyone was home.

"I'm bloody starving."

"Be patient."

Raven opened the crude locking system, consisting of metal wire and a loop attached to the door, and kicked the door slightly. It swung inward, and the two entered.

Raven's house was relatively nice. As she was a gatherer of sorts, she found things on occasion that would come in useful for decoration or otherwise. For example, while she was out picking Berries one day, she found an oil lamp. That same oil lamp was hanging from the ceiling and was lit. Tyke must've been home.

"Home, Tyke!" Raven shouted. She lowered her voice and turned to Blade. "While I do the food, can you go find Tyke and… you know? Give him a little push backwards."

Blade nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

As soon as he said that, Tyke thundered down the stairs heavily, stopping near the bottom. Tyke was short, of course, but quite well-built for his age – 8. He had brown, short, spiky hair and brown eyes, which at the moment were contorted into a scowl. He usually wore a simple orange shirt and white shorts, as well as tattered trainers. One interesting about his attire was that he wore a badge. It looked like a flower, with petals all the colours of the rainbow. Nobody knew what this was until one of the elders said it was a 'Gym Badge'. A Gym Badge was apparently given to trainers who completed trails set to them by other powerful trainers. Tyke wore it to mourn the age when humans and Pokémon co-existed, but thanks to its bright colours, people saw it more as decoration, much to his chagrin.

"Hey guys," he muttered. The voice matched the slumped forehead. Raven gestured slightly to Blade, who nodded. She got back to skinning the Taillow.

"Hey, Tyke," he said with a goofy grin. Tyke just eyed him neutrally, as if deciding whether or not he should hate him.

"Hey. How's things?"

"They're good. Hunting, you know. Bits and bobs."

Tyke scoffed and made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"We wouldn't have to hunt if Mewtwo was dead."

Raven growled, but so quietly only Blade heard it. He took it as another nudge.

"Listen, man. I know things are tough right now, but everything's cool. We're not getting along bad; life isn't too hard, right? And besides, hunting's fun." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You'll find out when you're old enough."

"I don't _want_ to hunt," Tyke said, his voice sharpening. "I want to eat normal food. Not food that's been shot with an arrow. Food that's been bled out properly."

"This is normal food. The elders say-"

Tyke scoffed.

"That's another thing. These elders and their stupid rules, adding them all the time. Make your goddamn mind up, idiots."

Raven turned suddenly.

"Keep your voice down, dumbass! You want anyone to hear what you're saying?"

"Maybe I do!" Tyke yelled. "And maybe they want to hear me break some of their precious rules. 'Oh look at me. I'm an elder and I'm _so_ much more important than you guys. What's that? Sorry, you can't _have_ an opinion when we're around. You'll do what we say or else you'll be executed!'"

_Oh boy_, Blade thought. _What happened to the Tyke I last saw?_

Raven swiped at Tyke with a hand. He ducked.

"What's your problem?" he screeched after springing his head up.

"_My_ problem? I'm your goddamn _sister_. You think I want you to be executed for treason or something?" She stopped suddenly, dropped her shoulders. "Now keep it down. Blade's got something to tell you."

Blade sprang up, waking from his daydream. It was helping to block out the familial quips.

"Uh, right." He looked over at Tyke, whose arms were folded in an annoyed way. "Listen, little dude. We all want to stop this. You think you're alone in your thoughts? Hell no, man. I don't like this either. My family got killed 'cause of all this. You think I don't want to stop Mewtwo?"

"Then what's the big deal?"

"The big deal, Tyke, is that sometimes we can't do things that we want to do. Fabia wants to hold a sharp object, say. But she can't. Why?"

Tyke didn't answer. Blade leaned forward slightly.

"'Cause it's for her _protection_, man. Protection being the key word here. Raven already told me that you were thinking of leaving…"

"More than thinking."

"…But, as much as I hate to this, you _cannot_ go."

"And why not?"

"Because you are no match for Mewtwo, no matter how powerful you think you are. If he has the power to control legions of Pokémon with a snap of a finger, he can quite easily snap that same finger and break you in half. And that's not just because you're young. I wouldn't stand a chance. Raven wouldn't. Not even Krunk would."

He paused. Tyke was huffing, looking down at his feet.

"You get what I'm saying?"

Tyke stood up suddenly, his chair clattering on the floor behind him. Raven turned. Blade looked at him in surprise.

"You're saying I'm too weak, that's what you're saying," he breathed, pointing an accusing finger at Blade. For some reason, Blade felt panic enter his voice.

"I never said that, man. I just-"

"Can it! I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do! I expect it from Raven and those goddamn elders, but not you, Blade."

He lowered his arm. A tear splatted on the floor next to him.

"You used to be cool."

Before Blade could defend himself, Tyke bolted up the stairs, slamming a door. Raven whisked around, holding the Taillow up.

"You gonna help me cook this?"

Blade's face contorted into a frown. Didn't Raven just hear Tyke? He decided not to press the matter further.

"Sure."

XxX

Blade was walking down the road, glancing at the houses as he went. He and Raven had cooked the Taillow together, ate and chatted. They talked as if the whole thing with Tyke hadn't happened. Blade did so because he didn't want to remind her of it, but Raven? Arceus knows.

Blade turned into his street, got to his house, opened the latch and stormed in. It was now quite late; Blade hadn't realised how long he was at Raven's for. The time just flew when he was with her.

Flopping down on the bed, he sighed and shut his eyes.

_I just hope Tyke isn't too mad tomorrow_, he thought. _Maybe some sleep will bring him to his senses._

Very soon after, Blade was snoring.

What seemed like moments later, he was awoken by a loud thumping. He first noticed that the strains of light breaking through the gaps in his wall weren't bright, but still enough to be, well, light. It must have been quite early, perhaps only sunrise.

His head was still quite fuzzy from tiredness, but the hammering continued, relentless. Then, a female voice. Calling him. He strained his ears to hear who it was.

"Blade!"

It sounded like… Raven. What was she doing here this early? Whatever it was, it must have been urgent.

Blade quickly jumped up and opened the door. Raven stood there before him, sobbing and hyperventilating. He had never seen her cry before.

"Blade," she sobbed.

Blade held out his arms to her; it seemed like a reflex.

"What is it, what's the matter, Raven?"

Raven looked up at him, eyes glistening from the salty liquid.

"Tyke's gone."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: PLEASE FORGIVE MEEE! So it's been a month. Terrible I know. I'm disgusted with myself. I had to get my results, enrol for college and do a little project. I've also gotten myself addicted (again -.-) to MLP and the last time that happened was when I didn't update Visions for like two months. BUT! Today, I dunno what happened. I had a brainwave! I wrote the rest of the chapter in double quick time and finished. And here's the end result! YAY!**

**ZeldaRubix: I'm so sorry, ZR. And yup, I wanted to make Mewtwo as evil as possible. Glad the message got there! I think you'll like first part I got going on here. Also, I'll read HZGHGB later on. Sorry for the lack of reviews on that too. BUT! Congrats on 1,000! Jeez... that's a lot.**

**RainEpelt: Thanks for the review, and sorry for the mega late update :(**

**japaneserockergirl: Haha, yeah, I thought of him as a sulky teen when I was writing his dialogue too. Maybe that's why it was so fun O_o**

**RoseWing-chan: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you got the suspense. At first I didn't think I did that well on it, but apparently I did. Thanks! ^_^**

**Warning: Just a heads-up guys. This chapter contains some homophobic language. Please remember that I mean no offense to anyone reading this, and that it is purely due to the character I'm writing for.**

* * *

VI

-105 years earlier-

Sergeant Leon Granger fixed his laces, as slowly as possible. The cadets opposite him watched, some fingering their rifles nervously and pawing at their numbers. There were about 3000 of them in the transport, all sitting in neat rows opposite a lone chair, which was occupied by the busy sergeant. A certain number, 3865, was tapping his foot quickly and shaking, obviously distressed and frightened by the upcoming fight. His foot tapping annoyed 5426, who poked him on the shoulder. The tapping stopped. Now, apart from the rumble of the vehicle's engine and the occasional thumps of hitting rough road, it was silent. Leon finally finished lacing up and looked at the disgruntled assembly before him. Some of these faces were contorted into grimaces, perhaps foreseeing the fight and obvious loss they were going to take. Others were grinning like idiots, trigger-happy soldiers who couldn't wait to begin.

"Men," Leon began suddenly, "I see that many of you are distressed, perhaps worried by the battle we will have, but I'm sure we will taste victory today."

He paused to take them in. The trigger-happy idiots were still smiling, polishing their rifles with sleeves and rags. The nervous ones remained silent.

_Maybe they could hear the disbelief in my voice…_

"Yes… a definite victory."

They were no more than numbers. Too many had been lost, too many to count. Most of the corpses were unrecognizable, burned faces, charred limbs too mangled to tell from the burnt tree branches surrounding them. Pokémon mingled with them, bullet holes riddling their chests and stomach, a select few having one lodged firmly in their head. Numbers were better for identifying them. There were too many, dead or otherwise, too remember by name. Numbers also helped prevent confusion when people had the same name. So far, numbers 0001 through 2000 had been lost. A third of 2001 through 3000 had been lost in the last battle and the rest were forced to retreat, injured and unable to fight. This lot, 3001 through 6000, was possibly their biggest force so far. While the odds were that they would last longer, there was no telling what the final outcome would be.

_If we win today_, Leon thought, _I'm putting it down to blind luck. We don't stand a chance otherwise._

Leon knew more than anyone else the power Pokémon housed, for once, a while ago, he was the Champion. That was the best day of his life, and while the title was fleeting – lost to some kid almost a week afterward – he knew that the win was because of the bond he and his Pokémon shared. As he stood there, confetti raining down on him, soaking in the applause, his Pokémon cheered, waved and blasted their powers into the air in that order. After that, he treated them to a meal at a human/Pokémon restaurant, played with them, gave them what they wanted as a reward for being such excellent fighters. After that, one might think that they would never leave him, their lives pleasant ones.

But as Mewtwo started to rise to power, they started to become more hostile, distant even. They would disobey orders in battle, refuse food, everything. Leon noticed this and tried to suss out what was wrong, but by then they were too far gone, their minds polluted by the lies Mewtwo was feeding through the air. This culminated one day when finally his Scizor snapped during a battle. Before Leon realised what was happening, he felt the weight of a red pincer emerging from his shoulder, and Scizor looking at him with cold orange eyes. Leon's own eyes widened and switched to his shoulder. Scizor removed the pincer. Now there were six neat holes poked through his shirt, his skin, his muscle.

His vision started to dim. His knees started to buckle. As he fell, he thought he saw Scizor's eyes arch into a look of pity. That was the last thing he saw when he blacked out, the opponent he was battling long gone.

When he woke up, it was early morning. His shoulder was killing him. But he couldn't quite remember what had happened before he had passed out. He looked at the offending shoulder and gasped. Some of the holes were still there, but not bleeding anymore. This was because a bandage had been crudely wrapped around some of them, and it was soaked with blood. It looked as if whoever put it on started, but then gave up and walked off in a huff. He was extremely light-headed, and he could feel blood pounding through his shoulder. Finally the wooziness became unbearable, and he collapsed onto the floor.

He woke up again, and this time it was light out, but not too bright. Leon guessed that this was the opening to dawn, the first strains of sunlight filtering through the leaves of a tree and onto his face. He felt a lot better; his head felt normal again, and while his shoulder still hurt, it wasn't as intense as last night, what he remembered. He stood slowly, looking around. The first thing his tired brain attempted was to find out where he was. After this, he would make sense of the other things playing on his mind.

He panned his eyes across the field. There were trees everywhere, the ones nearest to him being reduced to stumps. Grass was spread across the ground, some bare patches randomly peppered about. It looked like a forest clearing. Leon pressed his fingers to his temples, not only trying to dull the thump in it, but also trying to recall the events that had occurred before he had blacked out. There were little fire scorched areas scattered around as well, as well as little waterlogged patches. All these led to only one explanation: a Pokémon battle.

Between him and who? And what exactly had happened for him to have passed out? Then he remembered the pierce, the pain of something sharp digging into his shoulder. Six somethings. He remembered a red silhouette stood over him, its hand grasping his shoulder in a display of either comfort or the intention of hurting him. The silhouette looks like it had three prongs protruding from its head, orange eyes and a scar just above the cheekbone. The same scar his Scizor used to have.

Leon's mind caught up with this realisation and he stood, looking around again for his stuff. All his Pokéballs were in his jacket, and that was situated near his feet. Still, he looked around, panicking a little that he couldn't find neither Scizor nor any of his other Pokémon. His foot clunked roughly against an object in his jacket. He looked down, recognised it.

_Where have you gone, Scizor?_

Leon knew that only a Pokémon's trainer had the authority and the means to return a Pokémon to their Pokéball. If that was the case, then Scizor couldn't have returned. Of course, Leon didn't remember doing so. Not even a fleeting memory was there, stored away in his subconscious. He scrambled, picked up the Pokéball and threw it. It opened; no flash. Only the odd interior that confused many trainers daily. He picked up the rest, two of them spilling onto the floor. They opened too; also no flash.

"Go, everyone!" he yelled as he flung the remaining three into the air. They hit the ground, opened and again brought disappointment. Leon slumped to his knees, defeated. They were gone. Really, truly gone. The friends he had fought with, brought up. At first he was angry at Scizor, but then he put those thoughts away. Scizor was probably the closest to him, as it was his first Pokémon. What it did wasn't of its own accord, Leon thought. It was Mewtwo who had done this. The one causing the revolution to happen. If anyone was to be blamed it was Mewtwo for causing this to happen, for breaking apart the tranquil harmony that Pokémon and humans once had.

The one that caused Leon to lose his dearest friends.

Now those friends were somewhere else, working for Mewtwo, perhaps fighting in wars. He wondered if anyone had been killed by their partner straight off. Now that he thought about, Scizor could quite easily have killed him. A swift Cut to the neck. Easy. And indeed, the crude bandage currently keeping him alive seemed nothing a human would have done. The job would've been neater. So, Leon concluded that Scizor had decided to spare him. Why? He didn't know. Maybe it felt a bit of sympathy for him, running back through all the memories they had together. Give him one last chance to fight again.

That chance was here, in the field of battle.

"We are nearing our destination," the driver's voice rumbled over the speakers, "We will be at Petalburg Woods in approximately five minutes."

Leon smirked. The voice and choice of words made the driver almost seem robotic. Programmed to bring humans to death. No normal human would jump at the chance to drive a transport containing 3000 men into their doom. Too bad they didn't have any other choice. It was either fight or die. There was no other option available to them.

The dust picked up as they got ever closer, and the men were getting more and more anxious. Even the trigger-happy idiots had fallen silent, with serious frowns instead of grins. Some of them had families. Leon knew, and they knew, that if they fell here… God knows what would happen to them. Would the Pokémon go for them next? If so, the soldiers wouldn't be there to protect them. And for Leon, the father of two beautiful daughters, the thought was unbearable.

A buzzer snapped him out of his morose thoughts. This is it. Time to head on in. In the next few hours, the soldiers' fates would be determined. Will they fall here? Or will they get a victory that, while unlikely, would help them immensely in their struggle against Pokémon? Leon hoisted his rifle over his shoulder. One last pep talk beforehand, and the battle would begin.

"Gentlemen. This is it. We are nearing the battlefield. I just want to say good luck out there. As soon as we leave, form a V formation in order of number. I will lead."

_Not the best pep talk in the world, but we're going to die anyway._

The vehicle juddered to a stop abruptly, and the men took off their safety belts, opening the doors and filing out neatly. The transport was immense, as it had to be to transport 3000 men at one time. It took a while before they were all out, but immediately the lowest numbers ran to the back of the crowd. It was so fast, it was as if they had rehearsed this before, but this was actually the soldiers' first time out in battle. Leon was impressed.

After everyone was out, he jumped out of the transport, and almost at once the automated doors clanged shut and the huge thing barrelled away from there. Leon smirked. The thing was so big, he had at first wondered why it wasn't used as a weapon against the mass of Pokémon they were going to fight. But then he knew that they were very expensive, and the Pokémon could quite easily break them to pieces with their relentless attacks. Heck, what he had heard of Rayquaza made him believe the monster could wipe the entire squadron with one Dragonbreath. Leon just hoped he wasn't present at this battle.

The V formation was formed and ready with Leon heading the front. His rifle, filled with poison-tipped bullets, should ensure lethality with every strike. Of course, some bullets would miss, some Pokémon would require more than one to go down. The only thing he could do was hope and pray that the numbers weren't as high as what some of the soldiers coming back told him.

"Alright, everyone! Let's start moving forward!"

He started to run, and the rest followed. His heart beat ever faster as he ran. The soldiers behind him were howling a rallying cry. The fact that his soldiers hadn't lost hope quite yet moved Leon to scream along with them. Someone from the outside looking at them would have seen a huge V, screaming about victory.

"We will be victorious!" Leon screamed. The soldiers behind him screamed as well.

"On to victory!"

The first of the Pokémon came into view. Leon wasted no time.

"CHARGE!" he bellowed, shooting any multi-coloured thing that moved. Many Pokémon fell to his bullets alone. And there wasn't that many of them! Maybe they would win this battle yet.

"Engage at will!" he shouted over the din of roaring soldiers and screeching Pokémon. The rest of his platoon happily obliged and spread out, shooting as they did so. Leon had emptied out his first magazine on the crowd of monsters, around fifty falling to the first one alone. Grabbing a magazine from his open pocket, he tossed the old one out and jammed it in, a satisfying click signalling it was ready for use.

He noticed the soldiers in his peripheral vision yelling, mouths wide open, and their arms vibrating violently as they emptied their barrels on the enemy. Looking forward again, he saw huge bodies keeling over, red dots plastered all over their chests and heads. Only a couple of soldiers were lying on the ground, still moving, so even though they had been injured, at the very least they were alive.

"We're overpowering them!" Leon bellowed. More beasts fell to his gun. The magazine emptied again and he reached into his pocket, pulled another out and jammed it in. Very soon the Pokémon started to fall back, the humans pushing them with their insistent cries and weapons dealing out death. There were only a few hundred Pokémon left, and the number was falling fast. Now it was just a matter of picking out those alive, leaving nothing. Leon actually felt a bit guilty for doing this. Like the humans did, they probably had offspring of their own, and their death most likely meant the death for their family.

Suddenly a Scyther who wasn't retreating swiped at his neck and he ducked, the scythe shaving off his short fringe. He pulled out a poison knife and jabbed the Scyther, who screeched and fell backward, twisting and seizing due to the effects of the poison. Any guilt Leon had was gone; he was only returning the favours the Pokémon were doing him. He stabbed it again, in the chest. He could actually see small purple veins spreading out from the wound, travelling toward its heart, legs and finally, its head. It fell lifelessly, and Leon dodged before the thing could crush him. The clatter of falling knives sounded as the heap finally got to the ground, a scythe hopelessly reaching for its attacker, but falling short.

The Pokémon were thinning in huge numbers. Leon's initial pessimism was starting to fall back into the dark recesses of his mind, and to replace it, a bright ray of hope shone. As he claimed another Pokémon's life, he saw others fall to his comrades' attacks. The Pokémon were mostly dead, the rest only coming up to around a hundred. Leon estimated that it would only take a few more minutes, at this killing rate, to finish off the rest of them.

Those minutes passed quickly, in a flurry of blood and falling bodies. Out of the 3000 soldiers in the human side, only seven had fallen, one dead, the rest injured. One last Pokémon now, retreating like the rest of them had. A Rapidash. Easy. Leon aimed, found the neck, shot. The bullet struck the flame horse's neck and it fell. The poison started to spread, black roots growing from the seed sticking out of its neck. As the roots reached its head, the Rapidash twisted and bucked for a while before lying still, the veins congregating at its head and killing its brain effectively.

That was that. The Pokémon, for this fight at least, were gone. The dust kicked up during the battle started to clear, revealing dead bodies by the hundred, and panting soldiers, yelling on their comms to check if everyone was alright. It was as Leon had seen: seven fallen, one dead. 3546 would be missed. Thankfully, and this seemed a bit cruel to him, Leon was glad that he was the only one. The other seven looked like they were going to live thanks to the other soldiers getting them some help. He looked around again. All Pokémon dead, hardly any casualties. The battle had definitely been won.

For a moment he stood, hands on hips, looking out to the horizon at nothing in particular and smiling like a goofball. It hadn't taken long at all to win this battle, and there hadn't been many deaths. Leon wondered if, maybe… the Pokémon were losing their edge. That would be great news for the humans. If he could keep this excellent fleet of 3000, then maybe they'd just have a chance to…

"Argh!" he heard someone scream behind him. He whirled around. A soldier, once alive and well, was on the ground, writhing and foaming at the mouth. Leon quickly dropped to his knees next to the soldier, trying to work out what the cause of these sudden convulsions were. As he inspected, many other soldiers, foolishly, started to crowd around.

"Get away!" he yelled, a bit harshly, "We may have a sniper on our hands."

They quickly dispersed, but not before another shrieked and collapsed, holding his belly and shouting about "pain! The unbearable pain!" Leon was starting to get anxious. Two already. And it looked like this one was gonna be out for the count. He pushed the still slightly convulsing body over and discovered something, needle thin and glowing a beautiful purple, protruding from the guy's neck. As time dragged on, the glow dimmed, expelling all its poison, until eventually the soldier's hand fell from his chest, and invisible darkness folded over his eyes.

"Crap! Poison Sting!" Leon yelled. The others gasped behind their helmets and hoisted up their guns, determined to find the perpetrator before it could take another.

"Where are ya, ya little fag?!" Leon shouted out bluntly, causing some soldiers around him to flinch. "Come out so we can see who wins! Or are ya busy being a little faggy coward!? Keep hidin' in the shadows, eh?" He was started to get more and more exasperated. What he didn't need was some sort of assassin taking them down one at a time. He didn't need that. Not when his squadron should be cheering and popping open bottles of champagne.

His eyes squinted against the thick air. Nothing out of the ordinary. His soldiers, dead Pokémon. At least, he _thought_ they were dead…

"Give them another bullet!" he instructed, "Make sure they're all dead!"

A chorus of "Yessir!" and "Affirmative!" filled his ears. Meanwhile, as they were doing that, he decided to seek out the silent assassin who had killed two more men. He made sure to keep his eyes close to the ground; most of the Pokémon who used Poison Sting were Bug-type, and Poison Sting was a relatively weak move to Pokémon. So, from this information, Leon concluded it was most likely a first-stage Bug Pokémon, therefore small, and easy to crush. No bullets necessary. Therefore, quite boldly, he put the gun back in its holder and slung it round his back.

_Just a quick job, killing a Weedle or something. Quick kick, stomp, whatever, and the job's done._

As he walked, his mind referred back to the Scyther he killed. Just thinking about it for a second; that Scyther could've grown up to be a Scizor, just like his. Metal Coat wasn't exactly hard to come by these days, particularly when shops started to sell them at abysmal prices. Of course, the rampaging Pokémon can now get anything they want for free. Quick blow, shopkeeper dead, then ransack the shop like petty thieves. Leon smirked and shook his head.

_They aren't so different from us after all. The blacks wanted liberation first, now it's the Pokémon's turn._

He shook his head, angry with himself.

_But the Pokémon's quest is stupid_, he thought. _At least the blacks used non-violent methods in their protests._

Then the thought of Pokémon marching through the street holding up placards, saying 'Free Pokémon!' and 'We have feelings too!' marched into his head. He chuckled.

_They're smart, but they're also like wild animals. No chance of a peaceful protest there, no-siree-Bob._

A flash of orange, at least, a different shade than the dust surrounding him, caught his eye. He stopped and waited. There it was again, an orange flash, whizzing in and out of the dust.

_Come on, fag. Get out of that dust and come where I can squish you._

As if reading his mind, the Pokémon suddenly leapt out of the orange shadows, firing numerous Poison Stings at him. He quickly held up his arms, where the suit was made of Kevlar, and the stings bounced off them. Running up, he saw that it was a Weedle, and a very small one at that. Probably only a kid.

_What a shame_, he thought sarcastically as he reached the little bug and brought his foot down.

Wham! Splat! His foot connected with the tiny assassin's body and it gave way underneath. It felt like stepping on fallen Pecha Berries in the forest, except, well, they weren't Pokémon. Goo splatted everywhere, all up his trouser leg and the surrounding area. Leon grimaced as the feeling of skin ripping under his foot flowed through him.

_I think I'm gonna be sick._

He raised his foot. The Weedle was now only a head, the rest of its body broken apart and squashed. The only reason Leon didn't smash its head was due to the barb sticking out of it; if he made contact with that… let's just say he would have ended up like the two soldiers back at base. Speaking of which…

His mind was clear now, assassin terminated. Now all he had to do was get back, round up the soldiers, call the transport and go home. Night was beginning to fall now. He turned, started to walk back. But suddenly, as he was walking, he could hear a faint sound, echoing from beyond the dust wall. He stopped and turned again, craning his neck and trying to get a read on what the sound was. All of a sudden, it stopped, replaced by the soft sound of flowing sand again.

"Huh," he muttered dismissively. _Probably me cracking up._ He started to walk back. _I need a vacation. Preferably the Resort Area in Sinnoh._ His mind fell back to a report from the soldiers that Sinnoh had been seized and he grimaced. _On second thought, Hoenn sounds just fine._

After a few minutes of walking, he reached the others. The dead and injured had been carried away on stretchers, now waiting side by side for the transport. The other soldiers, still alert, sprang their heads up, but after seeing it was just Leon, stood and waited.

"Did you find the sniper sir?" 4142 asked him timidly. Leon just gave him a fleeting glance.

"Yeah. I squashed that son of a bitch. He won't be killin' anybody else any time soon."

4142 looked down at his leg, the one covered in green Weedle goo, and grimaced. Obviously, he didn't think Leon meant it literally when he said he 'squashed' the bug.

"Okay! Roundup!" Leon yelled. The soldiers chorused a "Yessir!" and got into the V formation. It was protocol for Leon to go to everyone in the formation and check them off on a list, but after seeing the size of the V he effectively thought 'screw that' and called for the transport. Usually it came in around ten to fifteen minutes.

"Okay, the transport should be coming soon. Hold tight 'til then. Just wanted to say soldiers: fantastic job out there. A battle won with only three deaths? I must say, I think you guys are our best squadron so far." Pause. "Admittedly, I was pessimistic about this battle. I thought we had no chance. But you…!" He wagged a finger at the soldiers, who smiled in return. "You guys proved me wrong out there. Thanks."

"For Hoenn!" Someone shouted from the back. The rest also followed suit, chanting "For Hoenn!" over and over. Leon found himself joining in. A resounding success. A win for the humans. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not him.

As they cheered, a snake-like green Pokémon slithered up to Mewtwo, who was watching them through narrowed eyes.

"They think they've won, boss," Rayquaza said, keeping his voice low. Mewtwo nodded, still eyeing the humans coolly. They were yelling about victory, pumping fists in the air and slapping each other on the back. The presumed leader was shouting along with them, shaking hands and offering apparent congratulations.

"A formidable squadron, it seems. They took out our first wave without so much as ten casualties. Only one death from us while the other two came from something not out of our lot. Probably wild."

"Yeah, I don't recall telling any of them to sting the humans," Rayquaza replied, his voice a bit jittery. Mewtwo looked over at him. He was bouncing up and down, apparently eager to get in there and decimate.

_Not yet, Ray, not yet. That time will come soon._

They waited longer still. When the transport was near was when they tended to strike. That seemed to be when the humans were least expecting it. Though after seeing this lot, Mewtwo assumed that it would be alright to do so now. Hell, even if they were ready they still wouldn't be able to face this wave, which was at least six times larger than the first and composed of much deadlier fighters. Not counting Ray. The behemoth could very well destroy an entire village if he put his mind to it.

"Okay," Mewtwo sighed. "Go on." Rayquaza frowned.

"Now?"

"Yeah, why not? They seem pretty relaxed to me, that's for sure. Yeah, go ahead."

Rayquaza's mouth curled into a grin.

"Thanks, Mewtwo! We'll make it an extra special one today." He turned to the wave, composed of giant monsters with extraordinary powers. "Ready?" They stopped chatting and focussed on him. "And… charge!"

The wave sped past him almost immediately. Mewtwo was impressed; the efficiency of the Pokémon and how prepared they were put the humans to shame, and they did pretty well getting in formation for the first fight. He estimated a five minute sprint before the two would finally engage.

"Meh. I'm going." Fights bored him. He knew he was going to win anyway; what was the point in staying?

"Alright, see you back at Sky Pillar," Rayquaza replied, already aware of his friend's opinion on the matter of battling the humans.

"We'll get a win?"

"Hell yeah." Why did he even ask?

Leon was still cheering, slapping random backs and shooting exuberant bullets into the air when he heard something.

"Hey!" he called, "Hey, hey everyone stop talking for a second! Listen!"

It was the faintest rumbling sound, and shrieks and roars accompanying it. The soldiers turned to each other, whispering among themselves as to what the noise was. Leon knew that noise. More enemies. He grinned widely.

"We ready for another round, men?" he yelled. The soldiers whooped in response. "Then let's charge!" he yelled taking his gun in one hand and holding it high.

"Charge!" the other soldiers yelled, abandoning the V formation and running as a crowd. The rumbling and cries got louder and louder. Very soon the two sides would meet and the clash of gunfire on actual fire would begin.

Louder still the sound grew. The soldiers behind him were still yelling out war cries. He had ceased, instead focusing on the sound in front of him. It was bigger than the first wave, he knew that for a fact, but how big? From the sounds of it, and the sounds of each individual cries, he knew that this wave was of a much more powerful stature. As he got closer and closer, his heart sunk further and further. Any thought he had of a 'victory' and 'definite win' had been thrown out the window, run over by a car and jumped on by unruly kids.

_This is how we go. Thanks for the memories, men._

The wave came into view. Leon's heart just plummeted through to his boots. That's that. Game over. Tell my children I love them.

The other soldiers also fell silent after seeing the wave. Perhaps they were shocked, or perhaps they too knew that they wouldn't stand a chance against this lot. Leon decided to lead and begin the fight.

_If I'm going out, then I'm going out shooting._

He started to spray bullets at the oncoming hoard, and the slowed for a second. He also noticed that it was taking more than one bullet each to bring the monsters down; now it was at least three each time. He had already used two magazines on the last wave, so he doubted his remaining three could last for this one.

He heard roars coming from overhead, and looked up for a second. A 23-foot long green dragon was roaring loudly and releasing Dragonbreaths onto his platoon. Many of them scattered, but some couldn't make it in time and were vaporised.

_That's it, we're dead. _

He had managed to take down a measly ten Pokémon with this magazine. He sighed, jamming another in, and commenced firing once again. He had barely got out ten more bullets before a body struck him down and knelt over him. Time slowed, and sounds dimmed. The faded outlines of explosions and dust filled his peripheral vision. He looked up at his assailant. The face was red with amber eyes, and three prongs jutting from the top of its head. A Scizor. Leon noticed that it was almost straight away.

_But do all Scizors have a scar on their face?_

The realisation dawned quickly, but not quick enough. Leon only had time to scream out the first syllable of his friend's name before the pincer came down, clean, cold and relentless, on his neck.

* * *

XxX

"Sergeant Leon Granger," Blade squinted as he read. "What kinda dumb name is that?"

"He'd probably say the same thing about yours," Raven replied in monotone. "Y'know, if he wasn't decapitated."

"He is?" Blade reached out, tried to grab the skeleton's head. It wasn't there. "Errgh!"

Raven laughed drily for a second, but then her face darkened suddenly. "Come on. We can't lose sight of this. Of him."

Blade nodded his agreement. "Yeah. Come on, let's find him and get back before we're missed."

They had been searching what was once Petalburg woods for ages now; at least three hours. The first strands of daylight were starting to break through the clouds, and the Pidgeys were starting to sing their morning song.

Raven was getting more and more agitated. If her brother hadn't run off earlier this morning, she would be waking up, making breakfast for the two of them, and telling him off about something or other. But searching for him in the woods, where monsters could be prowling? As well as an inevitable telling off from the elders back at the village? That wasn't on either friend's agenda.

Raven was seriously not in the mood for jokes, Blade found. And every time he thought she could use a hug, she scowled at him darkly and he set his eyes back on the path. This was serious business. Not only did she have Tyke to worry about, but also whether he was alright. Blade was pretty sure that the Scythers wouldn't be returning so soon, but that didn't mean anything else wasn't going to be subject to Mewtwo's propaganda. Any Pokémon was a threat in this world.

Blade decided to help ease the atmosphere a bit. Fact was, he was feeling pretty miserable himself. After Raven had come to his house and explained the situation through tears, he hadn't taken her as seriously as he should have. Usually she would use a bit of sarcasm and snarkiness to explain the situation. In fact, Blade had never seen her panic about anything, her being so cool. But this morning, seeing her in bits and barely able to speak, he saw a side to her he hadn't seen before. But he still couldn't see her like that. It was almost unreal. He wondered whether or not he was dreaming, but as she dragged him out and he got further and further from the house he found that this was real life, and this was Raven. Her love for Tyke was deeper than he had first thought.

"We'll find him," Blade said for the umpteenth time. Raven didn't answer, her eyes fixed on the path in front of her. "I know it. It's like he's near here. I can almost feel it."

Raven said nothing, but Blade could've sworn he heard her scoff ever so quietly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a bit more concern dipped into his voice. Raven's eyebrows fell and she turned to him.

"Yes, Blade, I'm fine. Now can you drop this?"

Blade was taken aback. "Stop what?" She huffed and stopped, as did he.

"Just telling me over and over again, 'We'll find him', 'We'll find him', 'We'll find him'. Why are being so optimistic now? This isn't some smart kid we're talking about Blade! This is Tyke! The little rat…"

She stopped herself from going further and took some deep breaths. Blade eyed her cautiously.

"…Ugh, he's gonna be in so much trouble. He has no idea. So much trouble!" Blade's eyebrows arched in confusion.

_What's with this change in demeanour all of a sudden?_

"Are you sure you're alright?" Blade asked, at the risk of getting a punch to the arm, "I mean, you're acting kinda… off."

Sure enough, he felt the weight of Raven's fist in his bicep.

"What're you talking about Blade? Off? Isn't this how anyone reacts when their goddamn brother runs off and damn well leaves the village, and in the middle of the night?! What if…?"

Blade's eyebrows arched again. She wasn't going to say…

"Blade," Raven whispered, her voice much quieter, "What if… what if the Scythers got him?"

With that, she burst into tears again. Blade still wasn't sure what to do. Her arms were pressed to her chest, her hands trying to stem to flow of water coming from her eyes. Blade wasn't sure. Was this Raven? She seems so… so different. He had never seen her sob like this, for anything. Even when she got that huge cut in her arm after a session of gathering, she just shrugged it off like it was a splinter. But this? This wasn't the Raven he knew.

"You…" he began, "You really care about him, don't you?" he asked tentatively. She looked up from her sorry state.

"He's the only thing I've got left here. What the hell do you think?"

Her hands clasped her face again. Blade nodded, slightly relieved. Sarky as always. That's Raven.

"We'll find him," he said without thinking. Raven looked at him, face contorted, and balled her hand into a fist again…

When suddenly a noise stopped her. She swivelled her head, as did Blade, and they looked toward the direction of the sound.

"What was that?"

The sound echoed once again. It was a cry for help, a scared scream. Definitely human.

"Come on," Blade said, clasping Raven's hand and running up the path. The scream echoed again, closer now. And again and again.

"What's happening?" Blade heard Raven mutter, worry in her voice. Blade responded by sprinting faster and faster, until they saw what was happening. There was Tyke on the floor raising an arm to his face and screaming for help. He was bathed in an eerie purple glow. The same glow being emitted from the leg of an Ariados.

Ready to strike.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm SORREEEEE-! Yes, I know. It has been AGES since my last upload and honestly, I'm shocked and disappointed with myself D: But I guess I have the excuse that college has been a major ass to me (work, peer trouble) that writing was the last thing on my mind. **

**But! This week, I started reading again, and found what I was missing! So, seven days later and bayum, here you are! :D**

**ZeldaRubix: I know you've been waiting for this for a loooong time DX Well, here it is :) And thank you for sticking with me :)**

**RoseWing-chan: Sorry to you as well! Thanks for the compliment. Oh, and I'll check on that Pokémon fic, if it's up ;)**

**Side-note: Anyone have a Wii U? Y'all can add me on Miiverse! It's OdnetninAdlez, as per usual. Send me a request and I should get back to you... Monday!**

**So here we finally goooooo~**

* * *

VII

-128 years earlier-

The pulse of the ECG faded in and out of the groaning figure's eyesight. Silhouettes danced around it, with blue circles for eyes and mouths that conversed with each other. Eventually it got less painful to keep its eyes open, and the figure opened them wide, trying to adjust to the dim blue light that surrounded it. Another groan escaped, and one of the silhouettes turned to it.

"Oh, he's awake," he heard it say. The others turned as well, ten blue circles simultaneously resting on the figure. It felt a bit self-conscious.

"Vital signs look good," a higher-pitched voice said, a different silhouette glancing at the ECG for a second and turning back to it.

"Let's have some interaction," the first silhouette replied. It leaned closer, circles growing larger and larger until they were almost in front of the figure's face. The figure shrank back.

"Whoa there," the silhouette said in a cool voice. "It's okay. You're doing great."

The figure slowly pulled itself upward, and to its surprise started to levitate above the ground. It looked down; a machine with several wires was on the floor, with bubbles spurting from it continuously. Curiously, the figure swirled its hand – or whatever it was – in the space in front of it. More bubbles popped into existence, rising to the ceiling, then popped out again. The silhouette watched the figure's movement, intrigued.

"That's called water," it said, circles kept on the figure. "Water is needed for everything to live in this world. Everything that lives, including you, needs water."

The figure swirled its hand around again, like a little child receiving his first gift. It could do this for hours, but was stopped when its hand went further and a sharp knock was heard. The figure pulled back its hand, shocked at first, then reached out again. Another knock, softer, filled the room. The figure carried on knocking on the invisible wall, not scared but rather intrigued at the phenomenon. A clear wall. The silhouette chuckled lightly.

"Yes, that's it. Feel free to feel around. What you're in right now is called a stasis tank. Everything that isn't ready for release needs to be kept in one, until we can let you out. 'Course, everything you need is in there: oxygen, food and yes," the silhouette said with an inward chuckle, "even water."

The figure wasn't listening nor did he understand. It merely kept tapping on the glass, awed by the resonant sound it produced. It noticed that the silhouette's mouth was moving, words being produced but not being heard. The figure decided to stop tapping and tried to listen.

"…and as such," the silhouette continued, "you'll be in that lovely place for maybe a few months now. Then you're home free!"

The silhouette whispered something to its associate, who wrote something down and walked off. The associate was out of sight for just a moment, but suddenly a click was heard and a bright square pierced the figure's vision. It yelled and fell back, body blocked by the tank's wall, and brought its hands up to its eyes, a reflex. Through its peripheral vision the world became clearer and brighter, more lights being switched on until, a few seconds later, the light ceased to intensify. The figure kept its hands over its eyes.

"It's okay now, don't worry," the silhouette said, "your eyes only have to adjust. It will take a couple of seconds, trust me."

The figure took its hands off its eyes, which were still closed, and floated back up to its original position. Then, slowly, the eyes began to open, and the first strains of light broke through to the pupils. At first the light stung it, but the figure opened them fully and, in time, everything was normal again. Except the silhouettes. Now they were odd-looking creatures, all wearing circles for eyes and looking up at it.

"Can you talk?" the creature asked nicely.

The figure had no idea what to do. It just stared back at the creature, at those circles, wondering exactly to do with it. The creature smiled weakly and turned to another one.

"Ready the brain cell transplant. He's totally ready for it."

The second creature nodded and went to a machine, pressing a few buttons and, on the command of the first creature, pulled down a large lever. Suddenly the machine at the bottom of the tank started to bubble furiously. The figure squirmed a little. The bubbles floated upwards, surrounding it in a dress of light blue. For a second the figure relaxed, looking down at the colourful phenomenon.

Then suddenly one of the bubbles started to squeeze itself into the figure's ear. The figure howled and smacked at it, its ear canal stretching to accommodate for the foreign object. As the bubble squeezed through it made a deafening hissing noise so loud that the figure's head started to ache intensely. The figure, not understanding what was happening or why, thrashed around, trying to get the bubble out of its head. As it thrashed, more entered, causing it to thrash harder and faster. Through the mist of bubbles it saw the creature. Doing nothing, perhaps talking to its associate once or twice but nothing more.

As more bubbles invaded the figure's head, the pain slowly dimmed, and the ache of its head was replaced with a soft vibration. The bubbles that didn't get into its ear floated upwards and popped at the surface of the water. For a minute the figure felt its head, looked at the creature and moved its mouth. No words came out.

"How are you?" the creature said, smiling up at it. The figure thought for a moment.

"That hurt."

The creature grinned widely and looked around at its fellow associates, also grinning. Then it turned back.

"Sorry about that. Had to be done eventually," the creature said with a slight laugh. The figure didn't know what to say. Its brain started to fill slowly, knowledge in all fields pouring into it like streams to a reservoir.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the creature said. "My name is Professor Fuji. I am the lead scientist hear at the Cerulean Science Academy. My associates and I have been working for months, and finally we have you."

"Working on what?" the figure asked, brain still chugging away.

"An experiment. Long term. Very long term. But it paid off," he smiled widely. "We know now that the successful cloning of Pokémon and the change of their DNA sequence is entirely possible. Do you know what this means?"

The figure said nothing.

"It's a breakthrough! This will pave the way for much more scientific success to come, especially in the field of genetics and DNA structure, such subjects we have been pondering for years now."

The information bubble containing word definitions popped inside the figure's head, the data filling its mind. One word passed through that Fuji had said.

"'Cloning'," it said, almost mechanical. Its eye held a faraway look as it spoke, "'A group of organisms or cells produced asexually from one ancestor or stock, to which they are genetically identical.'" Its eyes fell upon Fuji, and an emotion boiled up inside its head, though it didn't know what.

"You said 'the successful cloning of Pokémon' earlier," it said, "is that what I am? A 'Pokémon'?" Fuji nodded.

"Yes. One of many living, amazing creatures that exist in our world, which house incredible power and ability. Just like you."

The figure ignored the compliment.

"'Cloning'," it started, "do you believe in the ethical usage of this science and/or fields of science associated with it, such as genetic engineering and modification?"

Fuji was a little taken aback, but nodded slowly.

"We have taken all moral and ethical arguments into consideration and have done the experiment according to political law."

"Political law being born from human minds; however, have you thought of the experimental subject in this regard? The subject in question being myself?"

Fuji frowned, already low eyebrows sinking further down.

"Well, I… not particularly, no," he admitted, shrugging, "we didn't think there would be much to consider."

"So is that what I am to you? A moral-free unethical experiment?"

The figure started to glow slightly and a blue mist surrounded it, dissipating softly into the surrounding water. One of the creatures saw this, but passed it off as being a trick of the light.

"Of course not. We have had major plans for a Pokémon such as yourself. One with such knowledge and ingenuity of the human mind, perhaps even greater. There a big things ahead."

The mist around the figure thickened.

"You… _engineered_ me for your use?"

"No, not… not for our use, really," Fuji uttered, surprised at the all-too-human ethic and morals surrounding this creature. If anything it should be their will to be done by it, them having brought it into existence.

"And what, pray tell, is the name for your little science project?" the figure muttered, mist thickening more.

"The codename… of… course, yes. Welcome to planet Earth, Mewtwo."

Mewtwo's eyes widened, and at the same moment the data regarding numbers installed itself into his brain.

"Mew… two?"

"Yes. You are a… clone of the rarest Pokémon ever to exist: Mew. This Pokémon has evaded us for years, but we finally captured its DNA. From that DNA came you, our most wondrous creation."

"So that's all I am? A science experiment? Should I even exist?"

Fuji opened his mouth to dispute, but Mewtwo carried on.

"What is to become of me now that your fun with me is over?"

Fuji smiled widely, which served to incense Mewtwo further.

"This isn't the end of our time together. You have potential to become so much greater!"

The mist around Mewtwo cascaded down his body like a waterfall, and he eyed Fuji with pure grey eyes. Condescending, as if Fuji was the lesser.

"So…" he whispered to himself, fists clenching hard, "that is my purpose? My destiny?"

The mist rumbled and built up until eventually the tank couldn't handle any more. Before anyone could say anything, the tank erupted shattering instantaneously, glass shards and water thrown out at such a speed that Fuji was thrown back ten feet, landing hard on his back. Mewtwo's eyes glowed blue, pulsing with power, looking for destruction. His eyes fell on the machines on the side of the room.

With a roar, he focused his energy on the metal of the machines until the very walls of them started to crumple and groan under an unseen force. The machines imploded on themselves, electrical energy spewing out and shocking the floor, now covered with liquid. The remaining scientists pulsed and shook, fluttering slightly and opening their eyes wide. Eventually, the power to the machines ceased, and the scientists fell, their hearts having given up under the strain of the shock.

One was still alive, however, well out of the reach of the water. Fuji, with many broken bones and glass poking out of the front of his body. Still alive, but only just. Mewtwo walked up to him, cold grey eyes looking him up and down sneeringly.

"Well, you've certainly made a powerful Pokémon," he said sarcastically. "Although it didn't do you much good did it?"

Fuji tried to speak, but only a gurgle spurted from his mouth. Mewtwo laughed and walked on, out of the lab and into the outside. His creator reached out for the others, already dead. Others, yet to live their lives and see the world. Dead.

The glass finally reached him. He couldn't take the pain. He fell upon his front, and the glass so tantalisingly close to his heart hit home. His mind shut off minutes later, his beautiful mind that had given birth to life.

Somewhere outside, Mewtwo chuckled to himself, and watched as a flock of Taillows flew over Cerulean.

_A new life. All for me._

XxX

* * *

Purple was such a lovely colour, Blade thought. Its glow was so beautiful; powerful, yet calm and kind. And so pretty. Blade wasn't the kind to look for the appearance of something; rather the usefulness and benefits of it. Sala wasn't the cutest or the best-looking Pokémon ever to exist but it helped him in so many ways – hunting, fetching and keeping a source of sanity for Blade's life alone. But purple, now there was a colour. It shone and stood out for some reason amongst the rest of the spectrum.

Now, the beautiful colour was in front of him, so bright, so beautiful. It reflected in his eyes, full of angered and scared tears. The leg of what certainly wasn't a beautiful Pokémon shone its beautiful light, like an angler fish luring in a fish with its beauty only to be crunched between the sharp, bent teeth that lurked in the mouth of a wretched, horrid creature. An oxymoron in every sense of the word.

The purple glow was so intense that Blade felt his eyes pulse and throb under its unfading light. But he kept his eyes open, eyeing the Ariados with pure anger, hatred and depression – all at once. In one fluid motion, his hand grasped an arrow from his quiver, notched it to his bow, and for a split second, his instrument of death looked beautiful, the light cast over it.

Raven was screaming. Blade didn't hear. He couldn't hear anything, except for the sound of the string groaning under the arrow's force.

Purple.

_You don't deserve it._

The arrow flew from the bowstring. The arc or lack thereof, was perfect. Straight as, well, an arrow. Such a beautiful sight, if it was even possible for human eyes to trace its movement. A purple arrow, trailing light behind it, flying into a huge beast. Not something you see every day. The purple projectile fell ever so slightly, but not enough for it to meet and pierce through the Ariados' body with an audible '_shink!_'.

The Ariados howled loudly, the purple glow shutting off immediately. Raven stopped screaming for just a second, and the Ariados started to fall forwards.

"Get away, Tyke!" Blade screeched as he ran up. Tyke felt his legs come back to life and he jumped away before the Ariados hit the ground with a thump. Tyke ran now, quickly, his eyes searching around for somewhere to go. His eyes fell on Raven, watching him and the Ariados with a look of shock. Without thinking, he ran to her.

_Just get there, he thought._

Raven kept her eyes on him as he ran up, even kneeling down and pulling him into her arms. She was trembling hard and her face was wet with tears.

_I'm so sorry. _

Neither of them could see, their faces buried in each other's bodies. They couldn't see the blood (or whatever the Ariados had in it) splurge out on the floor, glistening red under the pale light of dawn. Blade was still running up to the Ariados, which was starting to pick itself up from its vulnerable position. Not for long.

Immediately, Blade fly-kicked the Ariados in the face, careful to avoid the large fangs that helped it kill its prey. It let out a grunt of defiance and rage, slowly picking itself up again. Blade didn't let up, letting out a roar of outrage and bringing his foot down on the Ariados' head. The Ariados screeched loudly as its head squeezed between the ball of Blade's foot and the hard ground, cutting near the top and more blood seeping out.

Hearing the thumps and grunts of the fight behind him, Tyke was tempted to look back, just to see his best friend – like a father to him – beat his attacker to death. But then Raven shook slightly from her tears, and that thought died. He just held her tight, as did she, and let Blade do what he wanted. One thing's for sure, he was so sorry. Sorry for the stress. Sorry for the pain. Sorry for dragging you out here. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

The Ariados took another blow to the head and yelped. Blade had no remorse. He'd told himself it wasn't the Pokémon's fault. It wasn't. It was one, dastardly creature, causing this pain and misery. Mewtwo, the coward, hiding behind his army of brainwashed followers, was the one. But this time, Blade couldn't hear the memory of his oath. The oath to never harm Pokémon unless it was completely necessary.

This wasn't necessary. The Ariados had quite clearly given up, begging for forgiveness in a way. But Blade didn't hear it. His eyes were still streaming, but he still found the sight to put blows into the least vital places. The places that made the Ariados die slower, therefore prolonging the pain.

If Blade saw himself now, he most likely would have been horrified that he was capable of such hatred and anger. So much so, in fact, that he had broken his oath to himself. How much hatred was required to do that? In Blade's case, a hell of a lot.

The Ariados was still now, anthrax still rising and falling softly. It was done, energy lost to keep going. Now it was just enduring the utter pain Blade was giving it, trying to close its eyes and go to sleep. But every time it got the energy to move its eyelid that small distance, Blade brought his foot down on its head again, and the dull thump coursed through its brain, jarring it awake.

Tyke and Raven had stopped crying now, a full half hour passing since they first started holding each other. Now they started to pull away from each other, looking into each other's eyes for a second. Raven tousled Tyke's hair slightly, a weak smile flashing over her lips for a moment before she looked over at Blade. Tyke followed her gaze and saw what was possibly the most violent thing he'd ever seen. The blood was everywhere, Tyke noticed. Some of it was quite close to his feet, and they were a good ten feet away from the scene.

The Ariados looked so sad now, its body shutting down, organ by organ. It was so shrivelled, the bloodlike substance giving it a lot of its fullness. Its face was begging for mercy, forgiveness.

_I'm so sorry. Please just leave me alone._

Blade didn't leave it alone. He started using his fists now, alongside his feet. Whenever he hit the Ariados' body, it caved under the weight of his fists, rather than bouncing off as it would have done. There were caves left all over it, pinpointing where the fists had landed. Such a sorry sight. Even Tyke, who could have easily been killed by the creature, felt his eyes soften at the miserable thing. It looked over at him with sad, accepting eyes.

_You've got quite the bodyguard here, don't you?_

Blade was wailing, thumping the Ariados slower and softer, his energy depleting rapidly. Raven and Tyke started to walk up to him, a decision seemingly formed in both their minds at the same time. Blade's fists were hurting, and he was so tired. The Ariados' eyes were closed now, and with one last breath, it escaped the pain and guilt, soul escaping to the cold ground.

Raven and Tyke finally reached Blade. He was still punching the Ariados' body, unaware of its passing.

"Blade."

Her voice was husky with sadness and relief. Her eyes were trained on the Ariados, its body completely unrecognisable from its original form. Blade didn't answer, even acknowledge her. He continued raining his blows on the shrivelled red body, deflating more with each blow. Tyke felt his face heat up, indignant that Blade had decided to carry on his torture.

"Blade, he's dead."

Tyke didn't mean for that to come out, but he felt he couldn't hold it. It seemed unfair to desecrate the Ariados after its already low-status death. He then gasped.

_Did I just call the Ariados… 'he'?_

Blade didn't hear, or rather chose not to. He kept punching and kicking the Ariados' body, though much slower and weaker, his physical and emotional energy totally drained. Raven walked up slowly, put a hand on his shoulder. He carried on punching the Ariados.

"Come on, man. Let's go."

Blade stopped his assault at last, bloody hands coming up to his face and covering it. He started to sob, hands dripping as the dried blood mixed with his tears. Raven kept her hand on his shoulder, staying put as he lamented. Tyke squirmed uncomfortably, watching as the strongest person he knew broke down and cried over the body of his assailant. It showed just how much this apocalypse has gone.

First, he was very nearly killed by a Pokémon that should have been peaceable and kind to him, but was brainwashed to think otherwise.

Second, he watched as the Pokémon, through no fault of its own, was murdered brutally before his own eyes.

And finally, apparently most important, Blade just wanted it to stop. Fighting, not trusting Pokémon and living in the fear that the very next day your village could be subject to a Draco Meteor attack and everyone you know could die.

Now Blade started to fall forward, his knees bringing themselves up to cushion his landing, which he did with a thud, and he stayed next to his victim. He was still lamenting, mourning over times past, when the world was as peaceful as it could get and the day wasn't pierced by the knowledge of knowing everything was out to kill you.

Blade laid his hands upon the Ariados' body and tried to stem the tears, tried to be happy-go-lucky the way he and everyone knew. But the pain, the utter disbelief that everything could end up this way, shattered him. Everything that was once perfect, shattered in a century.

Tyke subconsciously felt for the badge on his shirt, and noticed it wasn't there. It must've fallen off as he was running from the Ariados. His eyes cast over the scene, and saw the badge laid next to the Ariados' head. He thought to get it, but was interrupted by Blade rising, wiping his face. He turned to them, a smile, somewhat tragic, formed of his mouth.

"Sorry you had to see that," he said with a weak laugh. "Let's head back before we're missed."

Raven nodded and turned, as did Tyke. They walked in a row of three, not talking, not making eye contact. Just keeping their eyes on the dust that was once a building.

"I'll miss that Ariados," Tyke heard himself say. Why he said that, he'll never know. But what was weird was that neither Blade nor Raven objected. They just walked, hands to their sides, silently mourning the loss of another Pokémon.

Decaying, forever to be forgotten.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, I have no excuse. I'm really sorry for leaving this again. Another three months... Abysmal. At the very least, I hope you guys enjoy! This one was pretty fun to write.**

**The Gentleman Xerneas: Thank you very much for your review! And hey, don't worry. You should give it a shot (if you haven't already)! I'll gladly read it (I love post-apocalyptic stories ;D)! Thank you for the compliments!**

**ZeldaRubix: Thank you, ZR, for sticking with this story :) And yes, one day, everyone will have to face a dark patch. But with encouragement, they can get through it. Oh, and you can bet on these chapters getting lots of words in them :D**

**RainEpelt: Thank you! And yeah, I'm happy too. I like Tyke ;D**

**japaneserockergirl: I'm glad it got through :) I wanted to make it really powerful. So thank you for saying that!**

**RoseWing-chan: I know! Haha, it's really bad. But thank you for your concern. And yep, I am 16. I just read a lot :D Thanks!**

**Oh, and I just want to say, if you're reading, a huge huge HUGE thanks to Up Ndown Nallaround on TVTropes! You helped me out of my hiatus and got me writing again, and chapter 7 was the result. I hope you are still reading, and I'll try not be a douche again :)**

* * *

VIII

The walk back to the village was taking a very long time. Maybe it was due to the fact that the three were trudging back, exhausted, rather than running panicking toward Tyke. They were all physically and mentally exhausted, especially Blade. The only thing that was replaying in his mind was the Ariados' eyes looking up at him, the brows curved up in a display of sadness and apology. Looking back of course, Blade would have done things a lot differently, like beat it until it ran away or gave it a quick humane death. Blade kept looking down at his hands. They were covered in the liquid, now dried, from the Ariados. Some of it was in the gap where the bottom of his nails met the skin, and would take ages of washing to get out. Raven looked over at him, saw him looking at his hands. She grimaced.

"You need to forget about it man. It's gonna drive you nuts."

Blade clenched and unclenched his fists, looking at them for a few seconds longer. Raven kept looking at him, as did Tyke, still trudging along. Finally Blade let his hands fall to his sides, some flakes of dried blood twirling to the floor. Raven nodded and looked forward again, still trudging. After about five minutes the village came into view.

"Finally…" Blade groaned. He started to jog, as did Raven and Tyke, and they got to the main square in about a minute, energy depleted. The sun had now broken through its shackles, escaping and rising into the sky like a burning phoenix. At this bird of fire's call, people emerged from their houses, and soon the main square was bustling with people, talking, trading and haggling. Blade, Raven and Tyke quickly walked to Raven's house, hoping none of the elders saw their forbidden entry.

Soon enough, the three were at Raven's house, door latched shut. She unlatched the door, pushed them both inside and shut it slowly. Turning to face the, Blade had a serious face, whilst Tyke's was hugely guilty. On the way back, he kept replaying the incident in his mind. If the moment hadn't played out just as it had, he would have been dead. And then what? Nobody on Earth knew what happened when you died.

Raven shut her eyes slowly, fingers reaching up and pressing the bridge of her nose. It was quite clear she was irritated. Tyke knew that she did this before a lecture was coming, so he braced himself. Raven's fingers dropped and she stared him in the eyes, not looking at Blade once.

"That… Tyke, you can't do that."

And just like that, Tyke melted. He burst into tears and ran up to Raven, hugged her and apologised like a madman. She simply rested her hand on his shoulder lightly, and he looked up at her.

"Especially right now, in this world, we have to look out for each other. We can't trust anything but each other. Now, of all times, we need to stay together."

He nodded slowly, looking up at her. Her eyes, usually a bright brown, shimmering in the light, were now dark, almost black, and the soft glow had faded away. Looking down at his feet, letting them kick the dust for a second, he turned to Blade. His face was haggard, incredibly tired. His usually blue eyes had drooped, now showing the dull eyes of a person in death. Blade looked down at Tyke, no real emotion crossing his face. Tyke just understood how important this man was. He was the deciding factor between a relatively long life and an early, stupid death.

"Blade…" he stammered. "I, um, I'm…"

For some reason, the words couldn't form. As much as he knew and was conscious of Blade's eyes on him, he couldn't bring his eyes up to meet them. He could hear Blade's footsteps forming, coming closer, but he looked down, at his feet. He didn't know what was wrong with him.

"Hey…" Blade said softly, resting his hand on Tyke's shoulder and squatting down, letting his eyes meet Tyke's. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Right now, we're fighting for our lives, I know. But one thing we can't do is give up. Because if we give up, the world will swallow us."

Tyke's eyes started to moisten. This man, his saviour, consoled him silently, looking up at his face. Tyke kept his eyes on his feet, too ashamed to meet the eyes of the person who had saved him. Blade just looked at him sadly and pulled himself up from his squatting position.

"You'll make it, kid. Bet on it."

Raven sighed and stretched, her shoulders clicking. Blade looked over at her.

"I'm frickin' hungry. Can we just eat?"

Blade smiled. Raven was back, at least for now.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

XxX

Meanwhile, on a far corner of Hoenn, near a town that was once called Dewford Town, a somewhat built figure descaled a freshly caught Magikarp. By his side, there was the rest of his catch: four more Magikarp, a Goldeen and even a Feebas, which are extremely rare. The man's tangled hair fell over one eye, but he left it, allowing his eyes to focus on the knife he was using to descale the Magikarp.

Now, he had been in this town for about two days. Since Dewford was actually more of an island, getting there had proven to be difficult. However, he had made it, using a raft he crafted himself. Over the period of a year and a half, he found enough materials to make some that was at the very least passable, albeit not particularly comfortable. Whenever he could find time, he added just a little piece; a bit of wood, a plank or the sailcloth. He had completed the raft four days ago, and took two days to sail to this island.

For him, the island held major significance, as it was the place where he born and raised. He and his dad used to fish at this very spot, right next to the Granite Cave, so called because of the overabundance of granite and the mining expeditions by the people of the town. He knew because his father had worked there, and barely got time off. But whenever he did, he ruffled his son's hair and said 'Wanna go fishing?' then went to grab the poles. When they went, the boy would barely catch one, whereas his father would get a bumper catch that would be cooking on the barbecue in the evening. But it would always be the boy's that they would enjoy last.

The man laughed as he nicked off a particularly tough scale.

"Where have the times gone?"

The sentimental value of Dewford was extremely high for him. Here is where he had grown, been taught, and even caught his first Pokémon, the same that had got him out of scrapes multiple times. He had caught it in Granite Cave, after years of pestering his father. Finally, he accompanied the boy to the cave and watched over him as he proudly caught the Pokémon.

A beautiful male Aron. Timid, yet inquisitive. Shy, yet gallant. And quite powerful compared to the other Arons he had seen in the cave before. Yes, this one was special, and it was his.

Dewford was so beautiful, so peaceful. For the first twelve years of his life, there was absolutely no trouble. Not even crime was heard of. But that changed when, finally, Mewtwo remembered that sleepy town in the corner of Hoenn and attacked. In a matter of a few hours, the town and most of its inhabitants was devastated. The boy and few of the other people escaped to the sea. His mum and dad did not.

Because they didn't make it time.

The knife finally passed through the last of the scales. It flicked off satisfyingly, and the man grinned, picking it up along with the rest of his spoil. Heading back to one of the abandoned buildings, now his home, he kicked the door open. It had been off its hinges since he came, but he didn't mind. It's not like anything was going to attack him here, At least, not yet. But if it came to that, he had his Pokémon to take care of it. And even if that failed, he was quite robust. He may be able to hold off some small fry with a knife or makeshift spear long enough to drive them off. The big ones, with armour plating and deadly fire breath are what scared him the most.

It couldn't be helped. If he was to die, then so be it. But at the very least, he wanted to die after he had completed his mission. At least then he would be able to die happy.

The man sighed and blotted the thoughts out of his mind. Right now, death should be the last thing on his mind. Over the past hundred years, the word had gotten so boring, overused, cliché. Everything he had ever heard or known was death, death, death. It was nice to take a break from it all. Not just exist, in fear of death. But just… live.

"So this is what it's like… to live."

_Are we all that's left?_

That thought plagued the man's mind. To think, it had gotten that far. No-one left. He flicked on the TV. Of course, it showed nothing. The man knew it wouldn't of course; there was next to no electricity in the world. The only electric energy was housed in the bodies of Electric-type Pokémon, and since most of the Pokémon had defected against humans, there wouldn't be any ever again.

_What if, one day, I will be the only one left?_

The TV had a small scratch on its side, as well as a coffee stain. The man wondered who had made those stains. The house he had found it in had occupants that would move out constantly, at least annually, so he wondered: what tenant left his or her mark on this. The last possession they had. Or was it like this when the day came?

He knew one of those tenants, a kind old man with a wide knowledge of raising Pokémon. When the boy first caught his Aron, he went straight to that old man for some advice. The old man took one look at the Aron and instantly knew what food it liked, its moves and its gender. The old man gave him some Pecha Berries and the boy went on his way. True to form, the Aron ate the whole bunch in one evening. The boy never forgot that smile on the Aron's face, down to this day.

Sighing, the man reached down to his belt and picked up a Pokéball.

"Go, Aggron," he said quietly, and dropped the ball away from him. In a burst of white, a great beast emerged, coated with iron, and emitted a loud roar. The man smiled and shut his eyes as the roar rushed over him. The Aggron's armour was scratched and dented, cracked slightly in some parts. The man remembered that ride away from Dewford. He didn't even have time to mourn the loss of his parents, but rather, he had to get away from Dewford as soon as possible. On the way, he had to fight some powerful beasts. He even looked into the eyes of Rayquaza himself.

Rayquaza's mouth opened, and a purple ball started to form in his mouth. The boy opened his mouth to scream, but was quickly silenced when Aggron threw himself in front of him. The beam struck Aggron, causing a terrible shockwave that threw the people around him backwards. And, ever so slightly, the unbreakable iron armour that made Aggrons so famous cracked, and he fell onto the boy. Rayquaza, satisfied that the Aggron's heavy body had crushed the boy, flew off to deal more damage to Dewford's inhabitants. But what he couldn't see was Aggron's Metal Claw digging the ground just before he reached the boy, cushioning him and saving his life. The boy fell unconscious soon afterward, with thoughts of awe last forming in his mind.

The same Aggron was in front of him now, looking at him with intense eyes. It was okay though; all Aggrons had those intense eyes. Whether angry or happy, the helmet they wore had evil slits, which was probably to make Aggrons look more intimidating. However, the man somehow could tell easily what the Aggron was feeling, probably because of the extremely tight bond they had. In the end though, the man knew that this Aggron was his friend, whatever emotion there was boiling up in that head.

The man smiled warmly and tossed a Pecha Berry from the bowl on the table into the air, which the Aggron snatched up expertly. It grinned happily and hopped on its feet, and the man responded by throwing four more into the air, one after the other.

_This is living._

The man could stay here forever, living like this. But he had a mission, one he would complete to the end.

_Well, we all have to do some work sometime._

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion rocked the side of the house. Aggron flinched, but the man's eyes remained trained on Aggron's angry slits. His ear twitched, and the sound of various cries filled them, vibrating his eardrum constantly, wanting to be let in. The man sighed and stood, taking the other five Pokéballs on his belt off. He kicked the door open again, and Aggron followed. Suddenly the air had become a lot more sinister, a lot more deadly. A wind was howling, kicking up irritating dust. The man grinned and threw the Pokéballs up in the air, five white figures emerging majestically. The sandstorm was closing in, horribly loud, a cacophony chanting for death.

"Well, we all have to fight a battle sometime," the man said to himself.

He picked up the makeshift spear from a rack outside the house. His Pokémon reared up, trained and ready for battle.

"And this certainly isn't the first time."

* * *

XxX

Blade and Raven had finished their breakfast, comprising of assorted Berries Raven had gathered. She was sure to collect plenty of Cheri and Pinap Berries, both of which were Blade's favourites. In fact, she was so used to Blade barging into her house that she had a whole stock, plenty for 'emergencies'.

"What do you want to do today?" Raven asked, scratching her stomach.

Blade thought for a second, his bottom lip jutting out. He clicked his fingers suddenly.

"Hey! Why don't we pay a visit to that deadbeat Rayden? He must be finished skinning that bloomin' Fearow by now."

"Yeah, sure. And yes, definitely. Otherwise we can torture him," Raven said with a chuckle.

"Sala does have some good tricks up his wing."

"Chari could do the burning torture…"

"…And Sala the cutting. Win win!"

They both shared a laugh that quickly disappeared as they clamped their mouths shut as they passed the Bidoof. When they were sure the smell was out of their way, they exhaled loudly.

"Just gonna have to get used to it," Blade sighed pessimistically.

"Well good luck with that," Raven muttered.

They reached Rayden's stall, which was, for another day, unmanned.

"Goddamn it," Blade sighed. Raven looked at him like he just said something extremely weird.

"Jeez, I thought you were gonna be angrier than that."

"Nope, gotta keep it on the down-low. Don't wanna wreck his business. I'm terrible at skinning things."

"And I sure as hell ain't doing it for you," Raven replied indignantly.

Blade thought for a second.

"Where do you think that guy is?"

Raven shrugged. "Ill? Dead? Who knows?"

Blade was about to say something else when a robed figure caught his eye. He stared at it, then motioned for Raven to turn around too. Before them stood Axelon, leader of the elders and Tyke's arch-nemesis. As was customary, they bowed.

"Hello, Elder Axelon," Blade said as he rose, "if you're looking for Rayden then you're out of luck, unfortunately. He isn't here."

"Actually, Blade," Axelon replied, his eyes staring into his, then switching to Raven's, "and you Raven… I was actually seeking out you two."

Blade's eyes widened. Axelon never usually casually strolled around the square, being too busy with elder's meetings and taking care of requests that he usually never left the Pokémon Centre.

"Me… and Raven, Elder Axelon?"

Axelon's eyes were stern, and Blade instinctively shrank back.

"Come with me, you two."

He shuffled off, and Blade and Raven looked at each other with worried eyes. This didn't look good. Did someone see them coming back from the village in the night? Without authorisation? Were they going to be punished?

After five minutes of walking, they reached the Pokémon Centre. Entering after Axelon, everything was dark, except a stairwell on the right that used to be a working escalator. Axelon led them up, and they were greeted with a brightly lit room with only one thing: a table. On one side of this table were the other elders, Ecia among them. However, there were three chairs that were unoccupied; one in the middle of the elders, the other two facing them.

Blade gulped and took one of the seats, as Axelon instructed, and Raven took the one next to him. After a few minutes of silence, Axelon spoke.

"Do you two understand the importance of the rules we impose on this village?"

Blade was expecting that question somewhat, so he replied accordingly.

"Yes, of course, Elder Axelon," he responded humbly.

Axelon sighed.

"It is quite a shame when people break them then."

Blade's heart sunk.

"You don't mean…"

"Blade, Raven. Someone spotted you leaving the village in the early hours of sunrise."

Blade suddenly became indignant. Didn't that person also see Tyke?

"Who saw us?" he asked, a little brusquely. Axelon ignored him.

"With broken rules, there are consequences," he said, "both direct and indirect. If a Noctowl had seen you two out, they would have only needed to travel a little further and our village would have been seen!"

Blade shrank a little. Axelon was right. The risk they carried when they left the village was unimaginably high.

"I… I understand, Elder Axelon, but we… we had to…"

Axelon cut him off with a hand.

"This will not be tolerated. You two put the village in danger. Now, you must accept the penalty."

Blade and Raven's eyes widened, dreading the next words. The words no-one in the village would ever want to hear.

"Blade Walker and Raven Myst…"

Blade's hands tightened on the table's edge.

"You are hereby thrown into exile from the village."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Early this time! This is my compensation for being so late with the last two :) Hope you guys dig! this was incredibly fun to write! Oh, and the content of the chapter is my forté; some earlier readers can testify to that ;)**

**ZeldaRubix: I'm thankful that I could have got this out for you. I'm really really glad I have a fan as great as you, and I really hope I can carry on to provide quality content for you. You're one of the reasons I write! Thank you so much for sticking with me and making me feel super-special-awesome (nice Norkix reference?)!**

**RainEpelt: Sorry for the lateness of the last chapter. Oh, and you'll see what happens... Aww yeah...**

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: I am officially, as of today, a beta reader! I'm eager to see all your stories, so if you or anyone you know want a beta, I'm totally available. Thanks to all of you in advance!**

* * *

IX

Sand. So much sand. Pulsing and swirling like a liquid, when in reality it was comprised of many little rocks. Sand, flowing over the man's shoes, filling them with the little irritations. The man ignored them, however, and raised his makeshift spear. He ground his teeth hard, eyes squinting against the malevolence of the gritty air.

"Espeon!" he barked, "Psychic!"

A Pokémon that resembled a pink cat with a forked tail nodded, the red jewel in the centre of its forehead glowing subtly. Then the air glowed purple in front of the man, and the sand parted, allowing him a clear view of what was to come. His eyes widened, shocked at the numbers.

_This is… a lot more than the first time._

His eyes returned to a defiant slant, however.

_Even then… too easy._

The cloud of bodies drew closer, a rush of rainbow figures bursting through the orange wind. Rushes of flame and electricity burst out. But, notably, no water. The man smiled discreetly.

"Milotic."

A Pokémon resembling an eel, though incredibly beautiful, looked up. A black, almost hand-drawn eye watched its master through the howling wind.

"Rain Dance."

Milotic nodded, closing its eyes. It glowed blue, and bobbed its head slightly, thrashing its tail lightly on the dry sand. Clouds began to draw in as it moved gracefully, two appendages flowing from above its eyes, like hair, moving in tune with its elegant body. The clouds clumped together, turning a dull shade of grey, and the first raindrops started to fall. In a matter of seconds, a downpour began, breaking through the sandstorm with numerous splashes. Soon, instead of sand, only the muted clarity of the raindrops blurred the man's vision. But he had trained, his eyesight easily tearing through the rain to observe the tsunami of bodies coming his way.

He saw many familiar faces. Some Scythers, a few Machokes here and there. Obviously not the elite forces. Mewtwo must've thought this would be enough to take out one human.

_And you would be right, Mewtwo… any ordinary human._

The man tightened his grip on the spear and squatted slightly. His Pokémon crouched into their respective stances and prepared for a fight. Closer and closer the cloud drew, like a clock ticking to the end. The man smiled and took one hand off his spear, leaving it free to turn into a fist. The cloud was only a few seconds away. He gave the order.

"Let's go!" he yelled, sprinting into the heaving mass. His Pokémon followed suit, screeching and attacking anything that came near. The man had prepared for this, another attack on him personally. The first time had been when he was roaming around, looking for shelter after the destruction of Dewford. A cloud mass of them, the biggest he had ever seen, were approaching. He was small, afraid. But his Pokémon are what got him through it. And it'll be them that get him through this fight too.

Almost immediately his stuck his spear into a green body. A Scyther screeched and flailed, heavy scythes striking some bodies on either side of it. The man kept the spear inside the Scyther, however, and used it as a ram to batter through the other Pokémon. As they travelled, the Scyther's flailing scythes carved a hole through the cloud, knocking over and injuring the Pokémon it hit. Soon the man and the Scyther burst through the cloud, scattering bodies everywhere. Wasting no time, he took out the spear and plunged into the Scyther's head, killing it outright.

Meanwhile, the man's Pokémon fought their own battles. He had a full team; six Pokémon, ranging in size and type. There was his Aggron, a beast that had iron for armour and spiked horns sharper than knives. It excelled in physical defence, so much so that its armour was famous for being utterly unbreakable. It was incredibly strong as well, with Earthquakes that could crumble mountains.

To the side of it was Hariyama. It was a powerful Pokémon, with strength that even rivalled Machamps. Its fists were huge, powerful enough to kill a man with a single punch. Right now it was holding a Machoke off with one hand, the other smashing an Electabuzz in the face.

Next to Hariyama was Gengar. This Pokémon was famous in earlier times for its tremendous supernatural ability as well as the power to manipulate a person's mind. For Mewtwo they acted as brainwashers. This one acted as an efficient soldier for the man.

Typhlosion was next, a fierce Pokémon renowned for its amazing abilities with fire. The fire on its back has been seen to create devastating explosions, and its short temper meant that these explosions were not very uncommon. It was using Flamethrower, keeping anything from coming near and putting Grass-types out of commission for good.

Next to it was the incredibly strong – albeit not physically – Espeon. Espeons were famous for their exceptional strength when it came to special moves (moves that are ranged or require no physical activity). It was a Psychic-type, incredibly gifted at telekinesis and psychic powers.

The last of the man's six Pokémon was Milotic, an incredibly beautiful Pokémon. It was in fact so beautiful that in order to have Feebas evolve into it, its beauty would have had to have been maxed out. The man had only got this Milotic from blind luck, however, as he had no clue as to what exactly made Feebas evolve. The information had been lost to the ages, with no humans to uphold research. But now that Milotic was here, the man had an incredible defensive tank on his team. Milotic was defensively stunning, with a high HP stat and brilliant special defence. The man used Milotic as a status-inflicter, using it to poison Pokémon and change the weather to how he saw fit.

The man jumped back athletically, dodging a thunderbolt thrown directly at him.

"Aggron! Earthquake!"

His voice managed to find Aggron's ears and it complied, jumping up and slamming down with intense power. Shockwaves blasted outwards like violent ripples, scattering Pokémon as it went. With practiced accuracy, however, the man and his Pokémon jumped high up right in time, avoiding the effects of the Earthquake. Most of the enemies had fallen though, giving the man and his Pokémon some time to strike.

The man jumped into the hoard, slashing and stabbing with his spear with incredible speed. Aggron and Hariyama slammed into the Pokémon with their heavy bodies, outright crushing some and paralysing others. Gengar and Espeon dealt with any still standing, grabbing them with Psychic and hurling them at each other. Typhlosion and Milotic were preparing to perform a strategy. Because of the rain, Typhlosion's attacks had weakened considerably. However, Milotic's attacks were strengthened. During the rain, the man taught them a powerful and deadly move that they could use together during these times.

Power welled up inside Typhlosion, and he blasted flames from his mouth. At the same time, Milotic used Hydro Pump, a move where water is blasted at intense pressure. They used the attacks by themselves for a few seconds, but then moved the beams across each other. While not as hot as usual, the fire was still hot enough to heat the water to a boiling temperature. Therefore, as Milotic blasted the water from its mouth, Typhlosion boiled it, causing devastating damage to their assailants.

The man had his hands full, as he was the main person the Pokémon were gunning for. He was in the middle of a circle of assassins – all Scythers. He smiled to himself. Scythers were not known to attack all at once, but even if they did, he felt confident that he could take them down, or even get them to deal with each other.

They waited silently, breathing heavily, large shoulders going up and down as a sign of exhaustion and a little fear. This man obviously seemed confident in his abilities, and the way he held that spear showed that he wasn't a novice. But there were nine of them. They must have been able to take out this weakling of a human… right?

The man grinned and took the initiative, jabbing out at the Scyther in front of it. The spear hit, but not hard enough to pierce skin. Instead, the Scyther was knocked onto its bottom. The other Scythers were quick to follow up, slashing their scythes at him all at once. Thankfully, they aimed for the man's neck, so it was easy for him to the dodge the attack by ducking. He rose and immediately sprang forward, stabbing the spear straight through the floored Scyther's head. It died almost instantly, and he yanked out the spear. He turned, just as another scythe flailed at him. He threw his head back, the scythe whizzing so close that the displaced air tickled his cheek.

He scratched it quickly and swiped at the Scyther with the butt-end of the spear. It struck the Scyther on the side and it fell quickly. He quickly turned and struck the scythe of the dead Scyther with such force that it broke off from the bone. Wrenching it off and picking it up, he performed a handstand for a split-second, then fell backwards and landed on his feet, spear in one hand, scythe in the other. The other Scythers looked down at him in shock, surprised at the speed and power of his attacks.

Now, instead of being surrounded by them, he was faced with a row of them; eight, now that the fallen one had recovered. The man grinned and swapped weapons, the scythe now in his right hand and the spear in his left. While he had practiced with his left hand a little, he still felt that his right hand was stronger. With a deadly scythe clutched inside it, he was a force to be reckoned with.

He hopped forward, only a metre from them, and slashed with the scythe. The Scythers all managed to dodge or deflect it, but the man just followed up with a swipe of his spear. It struck two upside the head, and they fell to the ground. He quickly threw the scythe, point forward, at one of the fallen enemies. The scythe pierced it, pinning it to the ground and rupturing its organs.

The other Scythers gave a shriek of alarm and ran forward, slashing at the man unprofessionally with their scythes. The man ducked easily and stuck a fist out, smashing one of them in the hips. It cried out and fell, the impact giving it an all-to-human injury: a dead leg.

Mewtwo hadn't really given them a plan or strategy. All they had to do was kill one measly human. So why were they having such a hard time of it?

He quickly threw his spear at the fallen Scyther with pinpoint accuracy, the point piercing its heart. In a matter of seconds, it was dead. The man took that time to retrieve the scythe from the dead Scyther, slashing around him in an arc as he pulled it out. The other Scythers dodged quickly, but it hit one in the leg, opening a large gouge. It screeched and fell, and he quickly thrust a booted foot at its head to end it. Four down, five to go.

The man quickly rolled through the wall before the Scythers recovered from another shock; the death of one more of their number. As he rolled he used the scythe to prop himself up.

"Espeon! Psychic!"

The Espeon looked over at him and quickly discerned what he meant. The spear sticking out of the dead Scyther glowed purple, jumped out - after some persistent pulling – and flew right into the man's hand.

"Thanks!" he yelled, to which the Espeon responded with a smile, and it carried on its assault against the enemies.

The man grinned. He had the spear and the scythe back and his throwing skills were far better than any person he had known, and he had such strength that he could pin a monster – namely, a Scyther – to the ground with a few inches jutting into the floor. But now the Scythers had caught on to his idea, and had spread out a little, no less than a metre between them. The man thought quickly, analysing his situation and finding tactics that would work best to dispose of them quickly. He figured the best option would be to take them out in sections: the outer four first, and the middle one last. If he could get it by itself, the rest of the fight should be over in a few minutes.

He quickly threw out the scythe at the Scyther rightmost of the middle one, causing it to spin. The Scyther saw it coming and dodged, but only just. The man grinned. He wanted it to do that.

"Espeon! Another Psychic!" he barked. The Espeon looked over and saw the scythe, still spinning but losing altitude. Almost as if its thoughts and the man's were in sync, it grabbed the scythe with its mind. It glowed purple once more, and started to fly back the way it came. The man smiled deviously.

The Scyther that dodged the assault began to run forward, but it was a bit slow. This was because it saw the look in the man's eye. One of triumph, of victory. It was confused, but it was determined to slice off the man's neck, wiping that silly little smirk off his face. But then it stopped. Suddenly, its vision went dim, but through the fog he saw the figure of the man catch a shining purple blade. It looked down. The last thing it saw before it blacked out was its legs giving way, its bifurcated body falling apart.

The man looked right, at the Scythers to the left of the middle. Without hesitation, he threw the spear forward, aiming for the heart. It was about to dodge, but on a last ditch decision decided to knock down the spear, fearing the same death as its recently deceased companion.

The man scowled; he hadn't expected it to do that. But if the rumours of their reflexes were true, then it was totally possible. He was a bit further away too, so he had a higher chance of missing. But that wouldn't stop him.

On a whim, he sprinted forward, right at the Scyther. The Scyther seemed ready, and pulled back its scythe to strike. The man predicted this, and dodged at the last second, a huge scythe impaling the ground where the man once was. Unfortunately for the Scyther, the force of its strike got its scythe stuck in the ground. The man took the opportunity to retrieve his spear, dodging the other Scythers' swipes at him. Quickly and efficiently, it smashed the butt-end into the stuck Scyther's head, causing it to reel. It fell awkwardly, scythe still embedded into the ground. As it fell, the joint connecting it to the arm twisted and dislocated, causing the Scyther to scream in agony. The man quickly stabbed it in the head to put it out of its misery, and turned to face the other three.

One of them was already pouncing, and the man just about skipped past it. He got lucky, though, as his foot slipped slightly on the sand. If it hadn't, the top of his head would have been cut clean off. But thanks to the slip, he fell further than he first intended. As the Scyther fell due to its momentum, the man quickly punched it in the face, causing it to fall backwards. It fell quite slowly though, and the man quickly sliced its neck with the scythe, felling it. Two left.

He quickly back-flipped out of the way of a swipe from the middle Scyther, the blade barely missing his legs. As he stood, the other Scyther went in for an attack, with he just about blocked with the spear. However, even though the Scyther didn't go at him with the blade, the impact of the attack smashed the spear clean in half. The man growled and kicked the Scyther in the stomach, throwing it backwards quite a distance. The middle Scyther slashed at his leg as it was extended, but he took it back milliseconds before it was amputated completely. The other Scyther recovered, ready to go in for another attack. The man cursed.

_Damn! They'll just keep switching roles like this for the rest of the fight._

He switched up his strategy a bit, twirling the scythe in one hand as he went in for another attack on the other Scyther. He skipped past the middle Scyther's blade – narrowly – and swiped with the scythe. The Scyther raised its own scythe to block the attack, but what it didn't count on was a feint.

The man tackled it to the ground using his other hand, taking it by surprise. It fell with him on top of it, and before it could react, he stabbed through its face with the scythe, causing it to writhe for a few seconds before going still. Only one left.

The other Scyther slashed at him quickly, and he dodged. He attempted to take the scythe with him, but it was stuck inside the Scyther's bone. He tugged for as long as he was able, but couldn't get it out. He glanced at his spear, now split in two. Useless.

He looked over at Espeon. It seemed it had its paws full with a lot of Machokes, so there was no way he could distract it now.

_Dammit. Looks like it's gonna have to be hand-to-scythe._

The final Scyther could tell that the man didn't have a weapon to fight, but still took caution when facing him. After all, someone who could take out eight Scythers at once was not anyone ordinary. And it thought the numbers were excessive.

The man cracked his knuckles and clicked his neck, eyes fixed on the Scyther. It glared right back, preparing for a fight. The man crouched into a battle stance.

"C'mon then," he whispered, "Let's see if you're better than your friends."

The Scyther roared and charged forward with tremendous speed, using Quick Attack to go so fast it seemed like it phased in and out of reality itself. The man expected this; he was told that Scythers were stupidly fast when they wanted to be, and he knew that this one was being serious. Still, the man was confident. His senses had not failed him before, and now of all times was their opportunity to shine.

He watched the Scyther as it disappeared and reappeared. Left, right, left right. A pattern, albeit crude was being formed. He knew that if he timed it just right, he could duck and land a punch as soon as it was near.

Suddenly, he heard movement behind him. He only had literal milliseconds to register what was happening before he jumped out of the way of the blade's arc. It nicked him on the shoulder and he yelled, crimson blood spurting from the clean gash. He fell to his knees, grabbing at the wound. The Scyther smiled menacingly – the first one to land a hit on this guy. Quite an achievement.

The man gritted his teeth and wiped the flowing blood with a hand. Unfortunately, it was his right shoulder that the Scyther got to, meaning his movement with that hand would be limited. But he was sure that even with only one arm, he would beat this monster.

The Scyther grinned and nodded as if to say, 'Come on. That all you got?' The man grinned back as if he was facing a rival. This was much different than a Pokémon battle though. At the end of it, one of them would be dead.

The man yelled a battle cry and leapt forward, fist raised. The Scyther smiled confidently and phased out of existence again, just as the man reached it. His eyes widened, and the Scyther reappeared behind him. Before he could dodge, the Scyther hit him with the butt-end of its scythe. But the man was confused. The Scyther could very well have sliced him in half just then. So… why? To play a bit more?

He got up on shaky legs, losing more and more time. His back screamed in pain from the bruise the Scyther just gave him, worsening as he arched it. But he ignored it, instead focusing on beating the Scyther. And soon. The more he fought, the more the wound on his shoulder opened, gushing out more and more blood. It was a race against time. Either kill, be killed, or die from blood loss.

He looked at his other Pokémon again, a glance. None of them had fallen, and they were still fighting. Unfortunately, they all had their hands full with the other forces, and even though the enemy's numbers were going down drastically, they still had a way to go before they were free to help. The man gritted his teeth.

_Let's do it man. Don't wimp out._

He left all thoughts of the wound in the back of his head. Whatever happened, it was for later. Right now he had to beat this Scyther and the other forces.

He lunged forward again, assuming the Scyther was going for the same tactic. It did, phasing behind him as he reached it. However, he sensed its movement and ducked the scythe. The Scyther gasped and started to fall forward, the momentum of the swipe carrying it forward. The man quickly kicked it hard in the knee of the Scyther's straight leg. The force of the kick was so hard that the knee bent backward. The Scyther let out a blood-curdling scream and fell back, leg bent at an impossible angle.

The man wasted no time, pinning the Scyther to the ground with a knee to its chest. He also pinned down one of its arms with a hand, but grabbed the other. For a second, the Scyther was bewildered, still agonised from its broken leg, that it didn't know what the man was attempting. But as the man started to arch its scythe toward its own neck, its eyes widened, and it pushed back.

The man was sweating from the exertion of trying to get the scythe to reach the Scyther's neck. It had a lot of strength left, but it was weaker just to the broken leg. At the same time, the man was tired, sustaining a major wound that was not slowing down. It was a match of equals; the loser would be the one who gave up first.

It went on for a full three minutes. Both the man and the Scyther's faces were intense, beads of sweat adorning their heads like two bloodthirsty kings' crowns. There were points where the man would get a boost of strength and push the scythe down a long way, but then the Scyther would get the strength to fight back, only an inch away from death. The man glared into the Scyther's eyes, feeling emotion welling up inside him.

"Why…" he whispered, "why are you doing this to us?!"

He spat as he talked, small flecks of blood landing on the Scyther's face.

"What have we done? We loved our Pokémon!"

The Scyther's eyes were defiant still, and it pushed back with its remaining strength. It was dwindling fast.

"Why are you attacking me? Can't you see we all love each other?!"

The Scyther grunted, its resistance getting weaker and weaker. The man looked around at the other Scythers, some face down, all with blood surrounding them, like huge red halos.

"If you weren't here…"

The man started to push with all his might, and the scythe descended slowly.

"Your friends would still be alive!"

The Scyther's eyes widened in realisation. And stayed. They started to cloud over, pupils turning grey with the dense fog of death. The man sighed and flopped backwards, taking his hands off the Scyther's blade, lodged in its neck.

He looked over at his Pokémon, still fighting fit. The enemies had almost been finished off. Only, on average, five left each one. The man smiled, and took off his waistcoat, allowing the rain to lap at his shoulder wound like a hungry wolf. He dabbed it with the waistcoat, blood staining it almost instantaneously. He looked at the Scythers. All of them dead, the last one being his hardest fight. He was a little sad that it had to happen this way, but glad he had won.

_You guys…_

He smiled as Hariyama landed a punch right in a Magmar's gut.

_You've all earned your dinner tonight._

* * *

XxX

* * *

The silence in the room hung like a noose, waving over Blade's head, tantalising him. His hands were squeezing the table so hard, his veins started to fill, threatening to burst with red liquid. His eyes were stern, but terribly distraught. Axelon eyed him evenly, as if sending people to their deaths was another pastime. Blade looked down, tears starting the form in the corners of his eyes.

"How…"

Raven was sobbing silently, hands pressing against her eyes to stem the flow. It didn't stop, and her voice was shaky with emotion.

"How could you do such a thing?!"

She looked up, eyes wet with tragic realisation. The realisation that they could most certainly die.

"The elder's decision is always final, and always will be," Axelon replied neutrally, no sign of feeling flitting through his eyes.

"But we saved someone! We did! Someone really important!"

"I have nothing more to say. I expect you to be gone by tonight."

Raven's hands were gripping the table like Blade's, so strongly that they swelled, resembling Blade's hands apart from their size. Tears plopped onto them, cooling off the anger flowing through.

"No! We can't leave! What… what will happen to Tyke!?"

"I'm sure someone will be able to take him under their wing…"

"Don't you care at all for what he will feel?!" Raven interrupted, "He almost died! And now he has to face the fact that I will die too?!"

Surprisingly, Axelon flinched, albeit weakly. That seemed to have struck a nerve.

"I'm sorry, but the elders-"

"Are wrong, goddammit! Wrong!"

Blade looked up, his face also stained dark with morose tears. He looked Axelon square in the eyes once more.

"Nothing saw us," he said quietly, "Nothing damn well saw us. Forget your damn rules for a second, because if Tyke was out any longer, he would have been dead. And a dead body is frikkin' proof that there are humans nearby, yeah? So screw your damn rules for a sec and be rational."

Blade was shaking, anger rising at the injustice of it all.

_Now I know how Tyke feels…_

Axelon's eyes were stern, but all of a sudden they grew soft. He looked at the other elders, and they looked at him. He was thinking, old brain churning, trying to decide what to do. He thought for a bit, and opened his mouth to speak.

Suddenly, the loud, morbid drone of the bell rocked them. Raven jumped, looking around, not yet aware of what was happening. The bell rung repeatedly, and the elders started to rise.

"We shall discuss this later!" Axelon shouted over the din of the bell, "but right now, I suggest you hide!"

Blade nodded and ran down the stairs, followed by Raven. He ran out of the Pokémon Centre to see people zipping around, trying to get back to their houses before the assassins came. He ran with Raven, and they went their separate ways as Raven's house came into view.

So close. So close to certain death. Until the bell cut Axelon off.

It was the first time in Blade's life that he was glad for the hunt.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm gettin' them out like nobody's business! XD Hope you guys dig, and I'm glad that I can get these out to you real quickly :)**

**ZeldaRubix: Haha, I'm glad you liked the upload speed. I'm sure you'll be even more surprised for this chapter XD And thank you really much for the compliments! I too think that action writing is definitely my strength, so I had a lot of fun writing the last chapter :) This chapter has a little bit of action too, so I hope you enjoy!**

**RainEpelt: He does, doesn't he? XD Thanks!**

**bubbles1011: Thanks for reading, new reviewer! I'm glad you like it. And I'll attempt to get these out on a more regular basis than I have before :) Thanks for reading!**

**Up to chapter 10 now! Let's make it a good one!**

* * *

X

_Mewtwo… you have definitely lost from where I stand…_

The man of Dewford was sitting at a table, cracked and chipped under the wear of the gritty wind. He was at the head, Aggron at the other, and his other five Pokémon on the sides. They were all eating the bumper catch the man had caught earlier. The beautiful sun was cascading through and shining on the table of food as if it was a gift sent from heaven. It seemed that this victory was miraculous – at least from the viewpoint of any other human. The man smirked as Aggron piled its hands into a grilled Magikarp.

_If your objective was to turn the Pokémon against us, then you have failed. Quite miserably._

The Pokémon were barely damaged. Aggron's armour had next to no scratches, and the only bruise of the party was painted on to Hariyama, after dealing with a particularly resilient Machoke. Now the bruise served as a reminder that even Hariyama had taken a blow. At the very least, it was a bit of a condolence for the Machoke, now lying face down in the sand, its neck warped and twisted. It had landed a hit where other Pokémon could not even reach.

The man's shoulder pulsed slightly, but he didn't react. He knew his Pokémon tended to dote on him sometimes, even though it should have been the other way round. He already had a bit of trouble trying to convince them after they saw the wound, flowing crimson liquid like a murderous waterfall. If he showed any sign of pain now, they'd be on him like a flash, inquisitive eyes leering at the offensive injury. Of course, it was nice that they worried, but even then it could get a bit too much sometimes.

The man smiled again. These Pokémon… he had obtained them through countless adventures. Both Aggron and Hariyama had been caught in Granite Cave, serving as his powerhouses.

Espeon and Gengar were both obtained at Goldenrod City and Lavender Town, respectively. A building known as the day-care centre was left utterly destroyed. But in the wreckage, a glint of a shell reflected into the man's eye. An abandoned egg. The man took it to be his own.

Gengar was an odd one. The man was adventuring, albeit extremely quietly. He came to Lavender Town, a small place that reeked of death. The other towns were the same, but there was just something different about this one. He was walking through it carefully, when suddenly a moan escaped from one of the collapsed buildings. Taking that to mean somebody had survived, he ran there quickly. Unfortunately, the sight that greeted him was that of a man, lower half of his body crushed under a huge amount of rubble. Near him, a Pokéball rested. The man looked down at him, and he looked at the man. Then, without a word, the man under the rubble pushed the Pokéball towards the man's feet. He picked it up, nodding, a sign that whatever Pokémon was in here would be taken care of. It had taken a while, but the Gengar warmed up to him eventually.

Typhlosion and Milotic were given to him by Professor Elm. Firstly, Elm was giving away starter Pokémon to anyone who got there in time and the man chose Cyndaquil. Feebas was the result of an expedition at sea to find pearls. Elm had been curious at Feebas' rarity, and decided to entrust this one to a strong trainer. As soon as he saw the man, Elm knew that he could count on him to train Feebas up.

Milotic was the result. Beautiful, defensive and elegant. Every time he released it, it gave a flick of its head, as if to showboat ever so slightly. Of course, afterwards Johto had been overtaken by Mewtwo. It was a shame that Elm couldn't live to see the fruits of his research.

The man sighed and pushed back on his chair, letting his eyes pan over the party. All of them certainly had colourful personalities, fitting given the various circumstances and places where they had been caught. That reminded the man: Pokémon have personalities, just like humans. They can feel the same emotions humans do. Anger, sadness, joy. Emotions that, if you set a human next to a Pokémon with the same emotion, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

_Doesn't that prove that we were created to coexist?_

One Pokémon was all it took. A Pokémon who let his emotions override his capacity for compassion. One who had gotten too smart for his own good. It took one Pokémon, and this was the end result: about fifty out of six billion people on Earth left. The man, disgusted though he was, had to give Mewtwo some credit.

For every human, there was at least six Pokémon. It would have been easy to take them out had they all rebelled at once. And they had. Approximately thirty or so Pokémon remained loyal and loving the humans out of the billions around the world. Pokémon were rife. It was a surprise that any human had even been spared. But the people of the village were smart. At least, smart enough to know when to give up.

_Not me, though._

The man looked at his Pokémon. Five of them, hardened in wars. Wars that were certainly not in their favour. But if the man had thought that way, then he would have died when Rayquaza had first annihilated Dewford. He had never even mourned the loss of the habitants. He had never shed a tear, even for his parents.

_Sadness is a useless emotion… to cry is to be weak… to mourn is to procrastinate…_

The last time the man had cried was in his childhood. The fishhook he was using had embedded itself in his finger, digging in deep. When his father finally got it out, blood spurted out quickly. It wasn't the pain itself that had caused him to cry. It was the sight of the blood – his life-force – slowly draining out of him.

His dad had comforted him. Quite easily. His dad had told him that it didn't matter whether he lost blood. The wound would soon close, blood coagulating quickly after the first drops seeped out. The blood was then remade in his body.

The man lived by a saying since then. His father had made it up. The original saying was, 'There's no use crying over spilt milk.' His dad had changed it. To the man, that saying said, 'There's no use crying over spilt blood.'

The wound on his shoulder had closed up rapidly. The man quickly treated it with disinfectant the minute his Pokémon began to fall over him, giving their little worried whimpers as they first laid eyes on the gash. The man had shaken them off good-naturedly, thrown on a few drops of antiseptic and a bandage, and tossed the catch in the oven. The result was the reward for his Pokémon, for working so hard. For protecting him. For proving Mewtwo wrong.

_You think they're all on your side?_

The man watched his Pokémon playfully fight and talk, becoming a family. A family more than his own mother and father could ever have become.

_Think again._

* * *

XxX

* * *

The Noctowl was yawning, small beak rising as it opened its mouth. As it was flying right now, it was quite dangerous to keep its eyes closed as it flew. Not only could it bump into another object in the sky, but it could drop the precious cargo gripping it from the back: a Scyther.

The Noctowl couldn't help it though; it was a nocturnal Pokémon. When Mewtwo sent it out, and said to leave 'right away' it almost gave him a dirty look. But then it remembered what happened to the last Pokémon that had defied Mewtwo, nodded, and flew straight out, enlisting the help of the closest Scyther it could find.

Like Noctowl, Scythers tended to be more active during the day. It was a bit odd for Mewtwo to enlist their help, they thought, but Mewtwo quickly explained. It was widely known that Noctowls had the best eyesight of any Pokémon. Scythers also held the right properties to be assassins, with their incredible senses and ruthless, quick extermination techniques.

The fact that they were nocturnal was a bit of a problem, but they more than made up for it. Around ten thousand humans hiding out in towns had been killed thanks to this technique, and Mewtwo was sure he could take out the last few remaining. It was a question of who had the most power, the most wisdom, and the most luck.

Noctowl started to descend at the spot Mewtwo had told it, implanting the co-ordinates in its brain just in case. The Scyther hopped off as it reached a few feet over the ground, squinting against the malevolent radiance being cast out from the sun. Because their eyes were suited to dim light, there hadn't been many hunts organised for the day. But this time was different.

Just a few days, Mewtwo had sent out Noctowl scouts again, some during the night and some during the day. One had flown over this area and caught a glimpse of something through the orange fog. It was during the day, so Mewtwo had decided to scout out the area once more, during the same time.

The Scyther jogged forward, and Noctowl flew overhead, a short distance further forward than Scyther. Some decrepit shacks and huts appeared, apparently out of nowhere, and the Noctowl gave a slight signal.

It flew upwards and began its search. Red light beamed from its eyes, fighting for dominance against the white glow of the sun. Like any other Noctowl, it robotically scanned one area, then the next, then the next. The downside for it was that the red light was useless in the day, but, when searching, automatically came on. Now the light served as a slight nuisance to it, the red beam sometimes being mistaken for movement out of the corner of its eye.

Meanwhile, the Scyther entered the village, also yawning and surveying the area sleepily. Its eyes drooped sometimes, fighting to get it to sleep, but it fought against the urge, knowing that it had come to do a job. A job for the scariest Pokémon ever, yes, but a job nonetheless.

No Scyther ever objected, but not just because they thought Mewtwo would brutally murder them. They truly thought that only good come out of this. All the humans gone, their violent ways a mere part of history that would be forgotten; an intermission in all Pokémon's timelines. Mewtwo had said that there were a select few left, and that they were definitely located in Hoenn. If they could find them and eradicate them for good, then this would be the end of it. 100 years of work successfully completed. What then? Well, that was for the benevolent Mewtwo to decide.

Scyther smirked. 'Benevolent'? Mewtwo didn't see himself as a king, a tyrant or a dictator, and the Pokémon that followed him certainly didn't either. They saw him as the chosen one, the messiah that would lead them out of a world of oppression. It would just take some work, some cleaning up, that's all. Then they would be truly free. Free to enjoy the world that was made for them and only them.

Noctowl's dull light scattered over the Scyther's vision, giving it a clear glimpse of the world ahead. Houses, shacks, like slums, crudely and unprofessionally made. Scyther half-smiled. If there were humans, they would surely be here. This is where they would live. Although, it was a little confusing. Why didn't humans just live in caves and in the grass like Pokémon did? Did they feel the need to separate themselves at any cost?

Scyther sighed and stopped, breathing in and out and trying to avoid yawning. Yawning only made it more tired, meaning that its sense of danger and sight would be compromised. Scythers relied on their ability to concentrate more than anything else, giving them a way to sense the vibrations.

It started to walk again. After about five minutes it came to an unusual, though not surprising sight. A Bidoof, obviously dead, cut cleanly in half, lying in a huge bloodstain. The Scyther blinked in recognition. This is the Pokémon the other Scyther had boasted of killing before it was killed itself. This Scyther knew of course; before the Scyther went to report to Mewtwo, it had boasted about how it got a kill, but certainly not a human. This Scyther had warned it that killing Pokémon was punishable by death by either Mewtwo or Rayquaza's hands.

Fittingly, the Scyther had died to Mewtwo's. That scene was something it would remember for the rest of its life, for it was its scythes that the Scyther had been impaled on, Mewtwo screaming at it to hold them up. It had no choice. And it was justice in the end, right? The Scyther's come-uppance? It was only that thought that kept it sane and loyal to Mewtwo even after cleaning up the mangled corpse at the bottom of Sky Pillar.

The Scyther sighed and moved on, nose turned up. The stench didn't bother it; it had already become accustomed to the smell of rotten flesh from the countless humans it had slaughtered, and the amount of times it had revisited the areas just to be safe. But one thing this Bidoof may have confirmed was that there were no humans here. They would have moved the Bidoof, surely. The only other explanation for humans being there was that they had left the Bidoof to rot intentionally. But even if it was immune to the smell, surely any humans living here would have had enough by now… right?

It searched for another fifteen minutes, senses still highly alert. The Bidoof didn't leave its mind since then though, a reminder that even Pokémon could be dangerous to each other. But the Scyther passed it off as a rarity. That Scyther wasn't well in the head anyway.

It looked up at Noctowl, who was still searching the village methodically. Noctowl looked down at it, and it gave a shrug, to which Noctowl responded with a nod. Nothing here. May as well head back. As it went back, it kept up its guard. Standard protocol was that once the end of an area had been searched, it was to be searched again on the Scyther's way back. This way, a thorough search was always performed, ensuring that anything that was missed before would be dealt with swiftly.

Meanwhile, Blade remained in his hiding place, just under his bed. His mind was awash with thoughts, everything from the hunt to the recent occurrences. He couldn't believe he was just about to be exiled from the village. He would have died, definitely, but what had made it worse was that Raven would have died alongside him. Perhaps he should have told her to stay home while he went, so that she could have Tyke back and stayed in safety. But he hadn't thought to do that, his head filled with thoughts of worry and, ultimately, regret.

Now he was relieved. Axelon's eyes seemed to soften as he started to speak. Maybe they would have been given a second chance? Maybe the elders were more compassionate than he thought.

Footsteps formed outside of his house. He tensed up but didn't move, adjusting his mind to focus on the sound of the footsteps and nothing but them. They were fluid, no sign of a break heard. From the direction they were coming from, Blade assumed that the Scyther had completed its search and was about ready to finish for the day.

Suddenly it paused, and Blade held his breath. He checked himself. No movement: check. No sound: check. Silent as a stone: check. The only logical assumption he could form was that the Scyther had stopped to observe the Bidoof outside.

_Is that the same Scyther as before?_ he thought. Maybe even Scythers felt an ounce of regret for the things they killed. He wondered whether at least one ever thought of what it was doing, just as it brought its cold blade down on a person's neck. But then he knew that the Scythers would probably be killed for sparing a person or expressing sympathy. Right now, all Pokémon's biggest enemies was humans, and they wanted nothing more than to exterminate them.

He heard a slight swish of movement, a tell-tale sign that the Scyther was ready to move again. It set its foot down on the ground, and Blade listened out for the dull thump. However, he didn't hear it. Just as Scyther's foot connected with the ground, the baby in the house across from his emitted a wail.

The Scyther growled and turned, movement so abrupt that Blade heard it. He was in a dilemma. It was either he got out and attempted to kill the Scyther, or left Fabia, Taela and Krunk to die.

_Oh my God. What do I do? What do I do?_ he asked himself, sweating and panicking profusely. His dagger was by the door, swinging on a hook like a waving hand, beckoning him to it. The Scyther was tearing away at the wall of Krunk's house, savaging the wood with one slice after another. The wood ripped apart with a 'crack', then started to go soft as the wood ceased to exist and the Scyther slashed air.

Blade decided to stop weighing things in his mind. Right now, it was time for action. Right now, it was the time to save his friends.

Quick as a flash, he shot out from under the bed, banging his head on the underside as he did so. He didn't notice, his eyes only focused on the waving dagger next to his door. He grabbed it roughly and kicked the door down, the light from outside piercing his vision. His angry eyes turned to the Scyther, which had just turned to face him.

Before the Scyther could react, Blade roared and pounced, knocking it to the ground. It gave out a strangled yelp as it protected its face, Blade hacking away at it with the dagger. As soon as its scythes went up, it was protected. The dagger merely scratched the scythes, being dull from years of use. Blade didn't care. He looked up, at the frightened eyes of Krunk and Taela, as big as saucers.

He looked back down. The Scyther hissed and kicked him off, a heavy foot striking him in the stomach. Blade flew back a good few metres but landed on his feet, righting himself and charging again. The Scyther swiped at him, its scythe aimed at his neck. He dodged and lunged with the dagger. It struck and pierced through, awarded with a stream of blood flowing out. The Scyther shrieked and attempted to hack off Blade's arm, but he pulled back before it had the chance. The dagger came out with it, even more blood cascading from the Scyther's abdomen.

The Scyther poked its own scythe into the wound, stemming the flow of blood slightly. Blade gasped. That was a smart move. Whenever a person has a stab wound, it's best to keep it plugged with the offending weapon so as to reduce blood loss. Did that apply to Pokémon too? Since when were they this smart?

The Scyther jumped forward and thrust its scythe towards Blade's heart. Blade dodged quickly and kicked the Scyther. The shock pulsed through it, causing it to let go of the wound it was plugging. Blade didn't let up, and kicked it again, causing it to fall to the ground. He threw the dagger at one of its scythes, pinning it to the ground. Now, pinned to the ground and bleeding, the Scyther was completely helpless. Blade decided to end it as quickly as possible.

He jumped up, descending with a foot aimed at the Scyther's head. It landed with a dull 'crack', the Scyther's jawbone breaking gruesomely. The Scyther howled and thrashed, its scythe barely missing Blade's calf. He stamped on it again, forcefully. Once, twice, three times. It took about ten stomps before the Scyther finally gave up, letting itself fade out of life.

Blade kept stamping to make sure, and after the twentieth hit, lifted his foot off the Scyther's head. Anything that seemed to resemble a head before was now a horrid, bloody, bony mess. Its jaw was in pieces on the floor, its cheekbone scattered far off. Blade gasped for breath and sat down, wiping the sweat and blood away from his brow. Looking up, he saw Krunk, or rather, Krunk's eyes. They were stern, yet relieved. A thank you to Blade, even though the next part of the play was sure to tragic.

Noctowl had watched the whole thing. Now it knew. Humans did exist, and they had been hiding. By the way Scyther had gone to kill one target and another coming from the opposite house to apprehend it, it looked like there were multiple humans here, all living in this sand-blasted shanty town. Scyther's death would not be in vain. Noctowl quickly flapped its wings and took off, ready to report to Rayquaza about what had just happened.

After a few minutes, the other villagers started to leave their houses to investigate. Taela and Krunk were still sitting watching Blade. Raven and Tyke also came, and were in the front of the crowd surrounding Blade and the Scyther, along with the elders, who all formed a bristling, angry line in front of him.

No-one said anything. Blade looked up after a while, at Axelon. Axelon's eyes were stern, and had somewhat of a finality to them. Blade already knew what he and the other elders were going to say, and he certainly didn't need to them to kick up a fuss.

"Tch," Blade tut-tutted. He stood up, wiping the dust off his clothes. Dried flecks of blood sprayed everywhere. Axelon still looked at him with the same facial expression. Raven's eyes were wide, tears forming near the corners.

"N-No! You can't! Please! Not Blade! He saved… he saved them…"

"Hey."

Blade shook his head, sand spraying everywhere.

"Leave it. It's cool, Rae."

Raven almost began to argue, as was her defiant nature, but she stopped. Blade's eyes seemed to droop, a sort of defeated expression. He had already blown his chances to stay. The Noctowl had seen him. He had broken the rule, and worst of all, it appeared that that was the end of it for the village. He was remorseful, but at least he was able to give Krunk and Taela a few more years to enjoy raising their daughter.

He walked through the crowd back into his house. They didn't move, still in shock because of everything that was going on. He exited a few minutes later, bow and quiver on his back, Sala's Pokéball on his belt. Tyke realised the seriousness of this and lunged forward, tears beginning to stream.

"Blade! You can't go! Don't leave!"

Blade didn't push him away, but rather crouched and hugged him.

"I'm sure you'll be able to outclass me in hunting," he smiled. "I'm sure that if I ever come back you'll have beaten my record for size."

He grinned at Tyke good-naturedly. Tyke's face crumpled even more.

"B-But… my first time hunting? I… I wanted you to… to…"

Tyke started to wail, tragic screams filling the ears of the villagers – Blade's Perish Song. Blade hugged him again and stood. He ruffled Tyke's hair and smiled sadly at him.

"I'll see you later, buddy. And try not to get too stressed out by the rules, eh?" He winked.

Tyke looked at the floor, unable to meet Blade's eyes. If this was it, he only had one thing to say.

"Umm," he sniffed, "Thanks. F-For saving me."

Blade smiled again.

"Any time of the week, little dude."

He walked back to the centre, looking at the floor. Raven was looking at him, face stained with salty liquid. Blade looked up, at all the villagers.

"Keep living, you guys. Don't ever stop, because you're strong. And don't worry about Mewtwo! I'll make it my personal mission to kill that little bitch."

He flicked his hair out of his eyes. Axelon was still looking at him sternly, but a hint of sadness permeated those foggy eyes. Just a tinge, but still there.

"If you find me dead, it'll be with a knife in his throat!"

He saluted crisply, and turned. There was a rustling noise behind him. He stopped, on the outskirts of the crowd, and turned. All the villagers were saluting back. The elders, Krunk, even Tyke. Raven as well, but her hands were trembling. Blade smiled, feeling tears start to come into existence. He saluted again.

"I'll bring you back his head."

With that, he walked forward. Forward into the unrelenting wilderness, filled with danger. Danger that shouldn't have been, but was very much a grim reality now. His arrows bounced on his back, a reassuring clatter letting him know they were there. If worse came to worst, he had Sala. Sala, his loyal ally, powerful beyond measure. His dear friend.

"W-Wait!"

He turned for the final time. Raven was running up to him, as were Tyke, Krunk and Taela. Some of the villagers had gone back to their houses. A lot of the crowd stayed, however, including all of the elders. Axelon's hand was still up to his forehead in a salute, the other villagers long putting it down.

"Blade, um," Raven began, "I'm going to go with you."

Blade's jaw dropped, his eyes wide. He looked around. Tyke didn't object, and Krunk and Taela merely nodded. He looked back at Raven.

"But, Raven, what–"

"I don't have time for any damn arguments, okay? Just wait here!" she snapped.

She sprinted back and through the crowd. Blade's eyes followed her path. Axelon made way with a bow of respect. Blade looked at Krunk. Krunk held out a hand, but a flash of recognition showed on his face, and he converted it into a fist. Blade bumped it.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he said with a sad smile. Blade half-smiled back.

"I thought you knew already."

Krunk pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered. His voice started to tremble ever so slightly. "Stay safe. We'll need to see you again."

Blade returned the hug, the tears finally starting to flow down his sand-blasted cheeks. He let go of Krunk, and hugged Taela.

"Thanks for the meals. They were always lovely, you know. Never a mishit."

Taela smiled weakly and let go of Blade.

"I know," she said, wiping away a tear, "your tips told me that."

"Well I hope that when I come back you'll have some of that Taillow stew ready for me," he replied, smiling goofily.

Taela nodded again, smiling back.

"Y-Yeah," she responded with finality. "Stay safe, okay?"

"I will."

Krunk laid a hand on Tyke's shoulder.

"Don't you worry about this little guy. We'll take good care of him."

Tyke nodded.

"I always knew that if you had to go somewhere, Raven would follow you," he said with a smile, "So I prepared for that day. Guess it's finally come, huh?"

"Yeah," Blade replied, "It has. And you better be nice for these guys."

Tyke grinned mischievously.

"Can't promise anything."

They shared a light laugh. As they laughed, Raven pushed back through the crowd. On her back was a bag, and on her belt was a few throwing knives and Chari's Pokéball.

"Okay," she whispered with resignation, "Ready to go?"

"I guess so."

They waved again at the crowd, who waved back in earnest. Axelon saluted again, one final salute. The salute to a fallen soldier, no... comrade. Blade saluted back. This was just. A fair trial. Many witnesses and an impartial jury. He had no complaints. From now, his only goal in life was to kill Mewtwo and protect his friends at all costs.

_Friends… Raven…_

He looked at her and she smirked.

"Let's go then," she said, and started to walk.

Blade nodded, following her and not looking back. Out into the world, the region they lived in. No shelter. No food. He sighed miserably.

"Hoenn sweet Hoenn…"


End file.
